


The Librarian

by MryddinWilt



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed, Cursed Captain Hook | Killian Jones, F/M, Librarian Killian, Non-Chronological, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MryddinWilt/pseuds/MryddinWilt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New to Storybrooke Emma clashes with the straight-laced librarian of the local library. But the longer she is there the closer they become and the more the librarian starts to question everything he thought he knew. </p><p>A Cursed!Killian AU taking place during the events of Season 1. Installments were originally written out of chronological order and as the muse dictated (which is why the tenses switch) BUT it has now been organized chronologically for easy reading. I assume the reader has familiarity with the events of season 1 and the beginning of season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during 1.2 "The Thing You Love Most"

The Storybrooke library, like the town itself, is small and a little behind the times. A large wooden card catalog sits near the circulation desk and there is no bank of computers, no DVD section and, from what Emma can tell, no librarian on duty. She shifts the large file Dr. Hopper gave her and considers trying to find a copy machine somewhere else but then she hears a squeaky wheel and shuffling footsteps coming from the shelves. She follows the sounds deeper into the library. When they stop she pauses and hears the faint sound of books being re-shelved. A few more steps brings her to a sun drenched aisle and the only other person in the library.

A man stands half-way down the row his back to Emma as he picks up books from the cart beside him.

"Hey."

She doesn't mean to be loud but the silence amplifies the single word. He starts, turns and bangs his left hand into the cart. The books go tumbling.

"Blast!" He crouches down to pick them up and Emma steps forward to help. Then he seems to remember the reason the books are on the floor and stands back up. He is just shy of six feet with black hair, broad shoulders, and a defined jawline that looks freshly shaved. His eyes are framed by tortoise shell glasses that are similar to Dr. Hopper's and Emma thinks he and the therapist also share a stylist because the librarian is dressed in a grey cardigan, blue button down and red bow tie.

"Sorry. I–The books." He looks her full in the face and blushes. He ducks his head and pushes up his glasses. Emma is used to having an effect on men and she knows she looks good today– her tight jeans and red leather jacket doing her many favors– but it's still flattering to see him flummoxed. It's a nice ego boost after the disaster with the Sheriff in the diner this morning.

"No, look, I should apologize for startling you." Emma gives him a smile that he shyly returns. He has a nice smile and Emma thinks that if he wasn't so boyish and awkward he might be attractive. "Let me help pick those up."

Simultaneously they bend down and start picking up books.

"It's not your fault I tend to get lost in my work." She detects a British accent in the longer sentence and wonders why a tiny town in Maine attracts so many foreigners.

"I get that. Guess that explains why you weren't at the front desk and didn't hear me come in." She straightens with an armful of books and he stands with her. 

"My apologies."

Emma goes to hand him the books and it's only then that she realizes that his left hand is not a hand at all but a prosthetic. He catches her looking and she looks away. She steps around him to place the books atop the stack on the cart.

"So what can I help you with?"

"I just needed to make a few copies." She retrieves Henry's file from where she left it on the floor. His eyes flick to it. 

"Of course. The machine is a bit temperamental. If you don't mind it might be easier if you just let me do it."

Emma hugs the file closer to her chest. "Actually it's kind of sensitive and confidential information."

"About Henry?"

Emma furrows her brow as little alarm bells ring in her head. "How did you know that?"

He pushes at his glasses and clears his throat. "It's not difficult to work out. Henry has been talking for months about finding his birth mother and then the mysterious Emma Swan shows up the same day he disappears." He turns to the cart and picks up the newspaper plastered with her mug shot. Emma grimaces; it was a horrible photo. "I know Henry is in therapy and I recognize Archie's files. It makes sense that you would be concerned for your son and want to get a look at what Dr. Hopper says. Also the label says 'Henry Mills'." He points to the file and shrugs.

Emma is annoyed at his detective work but more frustrated that the entire town knows her business.

"Who are you? Sherlock Holmes?"

He grins and shakes his head. "That is flattering but my name is James, James St–"

He is cut off by the bang of a door and the angry click of high-heels.

"Stuart!" The strident voice of Regina rings out.

Emma sees him wince.

"That's the Mayor. I'll be right back." He shuffles past her in the narrow space and though his tone had implied Emma should stay put she follows him after a few seconds. If he had pissed off Regina Emma wants to know why. She stays hidden but gets close enough to hear them as she leans against a shelf.

"Ah, James! There you are. Would you mind explaining why you gave this to my son?" Emma hears a thump.

"I–I didn't give Henry this storybook Madam Mayor." There is a waver in his voice that Emma suspects is fear. Mary-Margaret had said most people in the town feared Regina. She grits her teeth.

"Really? Mr. Stuart I find it hard to believe that the town librarian is not the one responsible for giving Henry the gigantic storybook that sent him into a delusional spiral. He ran away to Boston to find that woman because of this book." Emma hears the same low malice in the mayor's voice that she had used in her doorway that morning. 

Emma peeks from her hiding place to see Regina leaning across the circulation desk and into the librarian's space. James backs away and scratches behind his ear.

"Henry didn't get the book from me but–" He pauses and shifts his gaze. He sees Emma before she can duck behind the shelf and she curses herself for not staying out of sight.

"But he is a clever lad it's possible he picked it up in the used book pile." Emma feels a slight twist in her gut; he is lying.

"The used book pile?"

"We have all sorts of people leave books there and I rarely go through them. He probably just found it in the box."

Luckily Regina doesn't have her super power and believes him.

"Well in the future I want you to monitor those books. It's your responsibility to make sure the young minds of this town aren't sullied by strange ideas."

Emma rolls her eyes. Is this woman for real?

"Of course Madam Mayor, absolutely." His tone is subservient and it grates on Emma's nerves. Why does nobody stand up to her?

"Thank you James. I know I can count on you in this. Now that unpleasantness is out of the way I am hoping you are free to watch Henry on Wednesday while I am in my meeting? With the Swan girl about I don't dare leave him alone." Regina's voice is so sweet it turns Emma's stomach.

"I would love to watch the lad."

"Then I will tell him to come straight here after school."

They say their goodbyes and Emma hears Regina's high-heels clicking and then the door shuts. In the silence she hears James let out a deep breath.

Emma emerges from her hiding place and walks to the circulation desk. She slaps Henry's file on the worn wood.

"Why did you lie, Stuart?"

"Pardon?" He doesn't meet her eyes.

"About the book. You know Henry didn't get it from the used book pile."

"Oh. Well." He shifts his feet and stares at his hand as his right thumb rubs at his bare ring finger. "Perhaps I thought it best to keep a friend out of Regina's war path just this once?"

"She is going to be pissed when she finds out you lied."

He clenches his jaw and Emma can tell just how unpleasant he finds the prospect

"There is a brief silence and then he speaks with a firm voice "She is a formidable woman. A woman that you would be wise not to cross."

Emma stands up straighter and folds her arms over her chest "Meaning?"

"You should tread carefully Ms. Swan. Nobody has ever taken on Regina and won."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Maybe someone should change that."

She meets his eye defiantly and this time he doesn't blush or look away; his gaze lingers as if he is weighing and measuring her. She stares back wondering just what he sees. There is a strange tickling at her spine as he cocks an eyebrow.

"Perhaps they should."

And it's not really a vote of confidence or a ringing endorsement but somehow it fills her with a bit of hope.


	2. The Crocodile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This installment takes place during 1.3 "Snow Falls"

"It should be right here." James frowns and looks over the titles on the shelf a second time but there is no sign of the richly illustrated "Snow White" book that he had promised to find. He looks sheepishly at Mary-Margaret. "I'm sorry but there must a glitch in the system." James Stuart took great pride in his organization and having a book missing, even an illustrated fairytale, was like having an itch he couldn't scratch.

Mary-Margaret sighs. "It's okay James, really. It was silly anyway. I mean I know the story. Evil Queen, huntsman, dwarfs and all that." The school teacher fidgets with the ring on her finger and bites her lip. "I just thought it might be nice to refresh my memory." She waves her hand and gives a self-conscious laugh.

He looks at her carefully. He has always liked Mary-Margaret, her gentle nature, her dedication to her students, and her taste in literature were all admirable qualities and it helped that he was never too awkward or nervous around her. He welcomes her visits to the library and enjoys their many chats about books and her students. He considers her a friend of sorts and he has noticed how preoccupied she has seemed lately.

"Is there any reason you wanted to read this particular fairy tale?"

"Well, I recently read a version of it that wasn't quite what I remembered."

The light clicks on in his head. "You read Henry's book." The lad lugged the large, leather bound, volume with him everywhere these days and while he had only let James see a few stories that had been enough for the librarian to realize they weren't the traditional fairy tales. She nods and starts fidgeting with her ring again. "Emma convinced me to read it to a coma patient at the hospital last night."

His forehead crinkles. "Why on Earth would Ms. Swan be interested in you reading to a coma patient?"

"Oh it's silly and it doesn't really matter anyway." She gives a nervous laugh. "I just wanted to compare the stories. But if you don't have it that's totally fine."

James can sense there is more behind her words but feels it is none of his business to pry into her affairs. He pushes up his glasses and turns back to the books.

"Well if you don't mind a lack of illustration." His fingers dance over the spines of the books before landing on a think volume and tugging it free. "Snow White is included in this anthology." He waves the book slightly.

She smiles. "That will work just fine. Thank you so much" She reaches for the book and he hands it over. Together they turn and head back to the circulation desk in a comfortable silence. James is trying to work out the connection between a coma patient, the school teacher, and Henry's book as they walk and he is so lost in thought he doesn't notice the man in the tailored suit standing at the desk until Mary-Margaret speaks.

"Mr. Gold."

The man turns and gives her a smile that reminds James of a snake. "Ah. Ms. Blanchard. What an unexpected pleasure." His eyes dart to her book but Mary-Margaret is hugging it to her chest, keeping the cover hidden. James wonders if she had hid the cover on purpose and if she feels the same twisting in her stomach and oily unease in the pawnbrokers presence that he does. He takes a small step forward placing himself between her and Gold's reptilian glance.

"Is there anything you need Mr. Gold?" Since the library and the apartment were owned by the city James didn't have the monthly rent interaction that almost everyone else in town endured. Gold had never set foot inside the library before now and James knew him more by sight and reputation than any first hand knowledge. And what he knew made him wary of the man.

Gold sweeps his gaze up and down the librarian, lingering on his prosthetic hand and his bow tie. James fights not to fidget under his gaze, but his thumb rubs absently at his ring finger all the same. Gold meets his eyes with a smile that is almost a smirk.  

"Why yes Mr. Stuart. I was hoping you could help me find a book on sailing. I understand you are quite the enthusiast."

James frowns and glances back at Mary-Margaret. "I think you've been misinformed. I've never been sailing or even on a boat in my life. I get terrible motion sickness."

"Now that is a real tragedy." Gold's eyes are bright and James has the distinct feeling the man is laughing at him. "I have heard that women go crazy for sailors and pirates in particular. Isn't that right Ms. Blanchard?"

"Uh" Mary-Margaret looks as confused as James feels.

"Though I think your proclivities might run more along the lines of a knight in shining armor or a Prince Charming?"

She blushes and this time James knows the man is somehow being cruel. The thought annoys him, almost angers him, which is a strange sensation.

"Mr. Gold if you will just wait until I finish helping Ms. Blanchard. I will be right with you."

Gold raises his hand. "No need. I will come back another time." His eyes sweep around the room before he gives another, small, almost feral smile and turns to leave. His cane thumps loudly as he walks and the door bangs after him.

James lets out a long breath and feels his muscles relax he hadn’t realized how tense the pawnbroker made him.

"He makes my skin crawl." Mary-Margaret murmurs and he nods in agreement.

Something about Mr. Gold sets James on edge. He doesn't know why but the man strikes him as dangerous, like a predator waiting to pounce, a crocodile about to snap it's deadly jaws. And James has the distinct impression that he is the prey. 


	3. Dirty Laundry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 10 and takes place after Part 3 and during episode 1.04 “The Price of Gold”

Emma hadn’t woken up that morning planning to give a motivational speech to a nineteen year old but then she hadn’t planned on getting a job offer from the hot sheriff or having Regina make her feel like shit, or ruining her shirt with scalding hot chocolate. Yet here she was in Granny’s laundry room lecturing a very pregnant girl while struggling with her own frustration and anger.

Emma doesn’t know why but she found herself telling the teenager all the things she wished someone had told her when she was alone and pregnant. The encouragement she could have used the nights she laid awake in her cell terrified of the future and of all the ways she would screw up her babies life. And the motivation she had needed when she was back on the streets alone and unsure of who she was or who she wanted to be.

“You want people to look at you differently? Make them.You want to change things you are going to have to go out there and change them yourself because there are no fairy godmothers in this world.”

The girl wiped at her eyes and nodded. “Thank you. I needed that.”

Emma gave her a small smile. Then the girl stepped forward as if to hug her and she spun back to the washer–the moment was over. There was an awkward silence and then soft steps as she left Emma alone.

She braced her hands on the washer, breathed a sigh and blinked her eyes quickly. She wouldn’t let herself cry. She wasn’t a scared teenager anymore and she needed to take her own advice. Regina didn’t know her. Sure she had moved around a lot but she had also survived, she had made a life for herself. Besides this time was different because she wasn’t going to run. She would be a person who stayed. For Henry that is who she needed to be.

“You know you really shouldn’t have encouraged her to punch and fight her way out of her problems.” A low, masculine voice jolted Emma from her thoughts.

Her head jerked up to the doorway. There stood the librarian shifting his weight and attempting a pleasant smile. With his carefully combed hair, immaculate khakis, and perfectly straight yellow bow tie James Stuart looked the epitome of a well-rooted and put together adult.

She kind of hated him.

“That’s not what I said and how is that any of your business anyway?” She growled.

He pushed up his glasses. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to overhear– ”

She shoved up the oversized sleeves of her borrowed shirt and crossed her arms. “Right, you weren’t creepily eavesdropping or anything.”

He stood up straighter. “I wasn’t! I wouldn’t! I came back here to get my shirt and you were talking and I didn’t want to interrupt.” He was so indignant Emma almost believed him.

“Your shirt?”

“Yes. It had an ink stain and Ruby offered to wash it for me.”

Despite herself the corner of Emma’s mouth ticked up. She wasn’t one for small town gossip but she had a feeling she had just stumbled onto some. Ruby, with her red streaks, daring fashion sense, killer body and sense of adventure, had a thing for the shy, cardigan wearing, law abiding, librarian. Emma silently wished her luck. Stuart had potential to be attractive–he needed a make over and less of a baby face– but he was much too wholesome and a bit self-righteous. He had practically lectured her when he learned she took a chainsaw to Regina’s apple tree and now he was taking issue with her advice to a scared kid. She couldn’t understand anyone wanting to be with a judgmental ass like that but if Ruby wanted to “do his laundry” that was her business.

Emma uncrossed her arms and gestured vaguely. “Well grab your shirt then and keep your opinions to yourself.”

She turned back to the washer and started turning the dials a little harder than necessary. She felt his eyes on her and glanced back up. He hadn’t moved but his ears were now tinged pink.

“What?”

“My shirt.” He waved a hand at Emma “You’re wearing it.”

She looked down at the blue dress shirt she had pulled from the drying line. It was definitely a man’s shirt and while it didn’t smell of books it looked to be his size.

“Yours? Seriously?” She couldn’t believe her luck. She started ripping at the buttons intent on giving him is stupid shirt back right away.

“No. No!” His voice went comically high. “You can keep it.” Emma glanced up. His cheeks were a bright red and he seemed intent on studying the ground.

She rolled her eyes. “Never seen a woman in her bra before?”

He looked up at her taunt. His gaze swept over her–too quick for Emma to know if he really appreciated the view– and settled on her eyes. There was a glint of determination in his eye even as his face continued to flame.

“I was trying to be a gentleman.”

He seemed so genuinely embarrassed and so earnest that Emma felt the fight go out of her. He was just trying to get his shirt back and she had jumped all over him. Plus he was important to Henry and they would probably be seeing a lot of each other it was best that she make nice.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just been a shitty morning. And seeing that girl–” she shook her head unable to explain. 

He nodded as if he might understand what she had left unsaid. “I am sorry too. It really isn’t my business. I just feel that violence is–”

She held up her hand to cut him off. “Look Stuart I am trying really hard to be nice to you right now. Don’t make me regret it.”

To her surprise he smiled. It lit up his face and made his eyes almost mischievous. If he could laugh at himself there might be some hope for them to have some kind of truce.

“I appreciate the no doubt herculean effort, Ms. Swan. I know I can be a bit–“

“Irritatingly moral?”

He shook his head but he was still smiling. “I have strong beliefs about right and wrong. But since you are trying to be nice it is only fair that I should also try to see things your way.”

She smiled back. “Thanks.”

There was a long pause that wasn’t quite awkward but not really comfortable either. He scratched behind his ear and Emma played with the hem of her–well his– shirt.

“I should go.” He gave a little nod and turned away.

“Wait. What about your shirt?”

He glanced back and this time Emma was sure he definitely appreciated the sight of her black bra and toned stomach.

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” His smile wasn’t quite a smirk and he quickly ducked his head and fled making what could have been a salacious comment almost sweet.

Emma chuckled. Maybe he wasn’t a complete stick-in-the-mud. Maybe she could even teach him how to flirt, eventually. Maybe Ruby didn’t have that bad of taste after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of born from convos about how sad it was that Killian didn't get to see S1 Emma's wardrobe. Plus I mean that blue shirt belonged to SOMEONE.


	4. The Right Kind of Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during 1.5 “That Still Small Voice” Hopefully you aren't getting whiplash from all the jumping around.

James Stuart knows that blushing is caused by his sympathetic nervous system instructing his blood vessels to open which floods the skin with blood. He knows it’s his bodies response to adrenaline brought on by embarrassment. It’s all very logical and scientific the reason why his face is hot and bright red but to James it feels more like a curse or cruel joke played on him by fate or maybe by Ruby.

The waitress looks at him mischievously as she leans against the circulation desk waiting for him to finish checking out her book. She has tied up her white uniform shirt so her midriff is gloriously bare and left so many buttons undone at the top that James can see the red of her bra and the tops of her breasts. He looks away and pulls at his bow tie. He pushes the book back to her and manages a squeaky.

“Here you go.”

“So have you read it?” Ruby taps a long fingernail on the cover of the book which features a man and women in the forest kissing passionately.

James clears his throat. “Uh. Yes. I have.”

“Hmmm. I always knew you were a romantic.” She leans closer and James decides to focus on her face instead of the view below her neck.

“It’s actually not that romantic and it was required reading at university–part of my survey on British literature. I wrote a paper on it. It discussed how Lady Chatterly could be interpreted as anti-feminist due to D.H. Lawerence’s obsession with–“ James stops himself before he can get carried away. “Sorry. I’m boring you. ”

Ruby grins. “No. That sounds so interesting. Maybe we could talk about it another time?”

Relieved James gives her a small smile. “Sure. When you return it you can tell me your thoughts.”

Ruby’s smile falters and then returns a little less bright. James wonders if he said something wrong.

“That sounds great. I need to get back to the diner.” She grabs the book and holds it to her chest. “Don’t wanna piss off Granny, again.”

James nods. “Right.”

She gives him a wave and then exits.

“Well that was almost painful.”

James starts and spins towards the voice. Emma Swan in her dark wash jeans, blue shirt, and red leather jacket is leaning against the doorway that leads deeper into the library with an amused smirk.

“Ms. Swan!” James hadn’t seen her come in but he suspects she watched his entire exchange with Ruby. He has only interacted with Henry’s birth mother a few times and he still isn’t quite sure what to make of her. She is attractive with her golden hair and blinding smile. But the beauty is tempered by the sharpness in her eyes and the stubborn set of her chin. She is a woman that is capable; a survivor that is unafraid to buck the system and used to being alone. In the quiet town of Storybrooke where everyone has a place she has become a wildcard and James isn’t sure if that is a good or bad thing.

“Stuart, are you always that oblivious?” She pushes off the doorframe and walks toward the circulation desk. She always uses his last name as if it were his first and James doesn’t know if that is a good or bad thing either.

“Pardon?”

“Ruby,” Emma gestures to the door “She wanted you to ask her out.”

James knits his brow and frowns. He looks at the closed door and shakes his head. “No. She wanted to talk about Lady Chatterly’s Lover.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Please.” She leans forward on the circulation desk her hand twirling a strand of hair. “Oh, James tell me more about literature it’s so interesting.” Her voice is bright and her eyes beckoning, much like Ruby’s had been. Then just as quickly she straightens and smirks. Realization comes crashing down on James and he puts his head in his hand with a groan. Was he really that bad at flirting that he didn’t even realize when a woman was doing it? 

“It’s okay. I am sure she will give you another chance. For some reason she seems pretty into you.” The corner of her mouth tics up and James feels his face growing hot. He doesn’t want to discuss his love life, or lack thereof, with Emma Swan.

“Is there a reason you are here, Ms. Swan?”

Her expression shifts into something more businesslike “Yeah, Graham said you would have maps of the old town mines?”

It takes a moment for James to realize that she means Sheriff Humbert. James had never called the man by his first name. “I do. It’s in the town history section.”

Swan gives him an exasperated look as if his small, well-organized library is impossible to navigate.

“Right. I’ll just show you then.”

He walks around the circulation desk and back into the main shelving area. The town history section is on the left and toward the back. It has a map cabinet, copies of the town charter, census records, several old leather bound volumes of history and other odds and ends. Since many of the materials are not available for check out there is a table for people to use when they want to read something or look at a map. A patch of yellow sunlight hovers over it revealing the dust that always appears no matter how often he cleans. Emma leans agains the table and the sunlight catches in her hair like a halo though she is certainly no angel.

James heads for the map drawers.

“Why do you need maps of the mines?”

“Did you feel that weird earthquake thing last night?”

James nods. “It knocked my milk and cookies off my table.”

Emma cocks her head and James wishes he hadn’t told her that particular detail or that he had been eating or drinking something less childish. “Right. Well, it was some kind of collapse of one of the old mining tunnels. Madam Mayor wants to fill them in, make it safe or whatever. So we need maps to know just where they all are.”

“We?” James cocks an eyebrow.

“Graham and I.” Emma must see his confusion. “I’m his new deputy.” She pulls back her red jacket and taps the shiny badge clipped on her jeans.

“You?” He can’t keep the shock from his voice.

Emma crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, me. Is that so surprising?”

“Did the Mayor approve your appointment?”

“It was in the budget and It’s not like Graham has to consult her about everything.” Emma’s tone is spiky and defensive. Realizing he has hit a nerve he mumbles his agreement and turns to open the map drawer. James had never known the Sheriff to do anything without the Mayor’s permission–not surprising given the less than professional nature of their relationship. What s Humbert thinking? Mayor Mills hates Ms. Swan and this new job could only make it worse. He pulls out a few yellowing maps and brings them over to the table.

“Look, Stuart, I know you think I am a lousy role model and could show more respect for authority or whatever.”

James turns to her. “Swan, in the short time that you have been here you have been arrested twice, damaged personal property and incited young Ashely to violence. Can you blame me for being uneasy that you are now in a position of authority?”

Emma puts her hands on her hips, her eyes spark. “First off both of those arrests were crap and second I was trying to encourage Ashley not–“ she shakes her head “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to the guy that probably thinks jaywalkers should be fined.”

“Why have crosswalks if no one uses them?” James shoots back.

“Seriously?” Emma gives him a disbelieving look.

Suddenly he feels absurd for caring so much about such a small rule. It really shouldn’t matter if people jaywalked and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that breaking the rules or challenging authority was the wrong thing to do but that meant that by extension Emma Swan was also wrong and that didn’t feel right.

James shakes his head, too confused to argue his point, and ducks his head. He begins sorting through the maps and hopes Emma drops the subject.

Emma breaks the silence. “My life,” she sighs. “Well it’s been no picnic. And I have my reasons for doing things my way. But you are right I should be better, for Henry. And I am trying, really I am.”

James feels a flush of shame and looks up to meet her eye but she is staring at the table full of maps. Then she blinks and he can almost see a wall going up behind her eyes. She straightens her shoulders and gives a mischievous smirk.

“And I promise that now that I am deputy I plan on following the rules and enforcing them. I could even write some jay walking tickets” The teasing lilt in her voice makes him smile. It’s a peace offering and a silent request to have faith in her. It feels almost like friendship. Almost. 

He gives her a nod and turns back to the maps. The ordered and logical lines are comforting somehow. He finds himself lingering on the charts of the Storybrooke coastline and bay. Their lines and symbols strangely familiar although he can’t remember ever really looking at a nautical chart before. He sets them aside to examine on his own later and continues his search.

After a few moments he finds what he is looking for. He pulls the map out and lays it on top of the others.

“This should be what you need. The blue lines are the tunnels and the grey are the town streets.”

Emma leans in close–their heads almost touching over the map–and points to a spot to the west of town. “I think this is where the sinkhole is.” 

James doesn’t answer–he is momentarily distracted by Emma’s nearness and the smell of her. It’s a clean scent like the smell of the ocean after rain and, like Emma herself, it put him off balance. He had told Mr. Gold the other day that he had never been sailing and that was true James had never been on the ocean. But somehow he felt sure that he knew the smell of it. The knowledge felt both right and wrong. 

“Wait if this is right it means there is a tunnel under the library.” James pulls his attention back to the map and follows Emma’s finger tracing over a blue line.

“No. That’s–“ James trails off as he realizes Emma is right. “Huh. That’s interesting.” He runs a hand over his chin and leans closer to examine the map. Emma’s phone rings and she steps away. From the one-sided conversation James knows it’s the Sheriff and it’s time for Emma to leave. He starts rolling up the map for her.

She hangs up the phone and after she tucks it into the back pocket of her jeans he hands her the rolled up map.

“Thanks Stuart. This will really help.”

“Anytime Deputy.”

She gives him a genuine smile at the use of her title and then turns and walks away leaving James to put the other maps away and sort through his thoughts.

He sinks into a chair and stares again at one of the nautical charts. With a shock he realizes he can read most of it easily. He understands where the currents flow and where the shoals are. He recognizes the annotations about the tide and the features of the coast. He wonders where he could have picked up such a skill. Like ignoring the rules or knowing the smell of the ocean after rain reading the chart feels wrong but somehow it is the right kind of wrong. James isn’t entirely sure what that means but he thinks he wants to find out.


	5. Closing Time

First thing in the morning the library felt almost like a shrine; quiet, somber, and full of mystery. The sun pouring through the high windows onto the meticulously organized shelves and the books just waiting to share the infinite knowledge and worlds between their covers. Each morning James would descend from his apartment over the library into the peacefulness, run his hands over their spines and breathe in the smell of the paper and glue. Sometimes he would pick one at random and take it with him to read over breakfast at Granny's.

This morning the shrine is desecrated. The quiet pierced by a soft snore that sounds almost like a sigh. The organization of the town history section demolished with it's entire contents scattered upon a table. He pauses and stares at the scene with a soft smile.

Emma Swan's face is curtained by her golden hair and planted in a large brown ledger–the town charter if he had to guess. He can't see her face but last night dark circles ringed her green eyes and her mouth had been in a permanent frown. He had offered to help her search but she had waved him off.

"Thanks but it's official police business." She had stuck her hands on her hips shifting so her badge was visible.

James had thought that over the past months he and Emma had grown closer, maybe even become friends but everything about her stance had screamed that she wanted to be left alone. So he had pushed up his glasses and nodded.

"Right. Of course. I'll just be at the desk if you need anything."

She hadn't needed anything or at least she hadn't asked for anything and he had left her alone until he was about to close. The mess of books on the table had made him wince; it would take hours to re-shelve everything. When clearing his throat failed to get her attention he had touched her shoulder and she had jumped a mile.

"Shit! Stuart don't scare me like that."

His face had done a good imitation of a tomato. "Sorry Ms. Swan. I am closing up. But you can stay as long as you need. I will even leave the lights on if you prefer."

Emma had raised her eyebrows. "Let me stay after hours? Leave the lights on? You are becoming quite the rebel. What will Regina say?"

He had known she was teasing but the remark felt a little too pointed given the known animosity between the two women and Emma's disdain for his adherence to rules. He had fiddled with his fingers rubbing at rings he didn't wear and wished that he was better with putting his thoughts into words.

"I am sure the mayor won't want to interfere with police business."

Emma had rolled her eyes and turned back to her books. "Yes I know how much you admire Madam Mayor."

"Ms. Swan–" He had started but she cut him off.

"Look Stuart I got a lot of research to do." James had bit his lip and pushed up his glasses before nodding and leaving her alone.

But her words and frustration had stayed with him through the night. Why did he feel such dedication to rules? Why did he care so much about making Mayor Mills happy? Why did Emma Swan's opinion matter so much to him? He hadn't answered any of these questions by the time he discovered that she had slept in the library.

He thinks about waking her and inviting her to breakfast at Granny's. But then he remembers that Ruby is working and would flirt with him and turn him into a red-faced fool. He was hopeless with women and Emma had already offered to help "up his game" twice. He worried that the third time would be the charm and he would actually take her up on the offer. Emma did that to him; made him do things he wouldn't or shouldn't, made him question his life, a life he had been happy with for as long as he could remember. 

He leaves her there and she is still sleeping when he returns with a bag of food and two cups of coffee (Ruby was working and she had made him blush; twice). Instead of going up to his apartment he pulls out his food at the circulation desk and starts up his computer. Breaking another rule–no food in the library–just so Emma won't be able to slip out on him.

He is halfway through his breakfast sandwich when she appears from between the shelves. Her hair now in a pony tail and angry red lines crease the left side of her face but she seems happy. She gives him a small smile.

Wordlessly he pushes the bag and coffee towards her. Her smile grows broad and something sharp enters his heart; literally taking his breath away. She is stunning when she truly smiles.

She takes a sip of her coffee. "Thanks this was thoughtful."

He feels his face flush and he scratches behind his ear. "It's nothing."

She takes another sip and peers into the bag. He clears his throat. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

She pulls out a bear claw with a look of glee. "I did. Town code says that all changes to playgrounds must be run through committee and according to the charter that's grounds for a recall election. Regina screwed up big time."

He raises his eyebrow. "I thought you were on official police business?"

Emma freezes, a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, and a faint blush appears. "I lied. I needed to figure out a way to make Regina pay for tearing down Henry's castle. And I couldn't tell you because–"

"You don't trust me."

"No. Well, yes." Emma gives a sigh and puts her bear claw back in the bag. "Look don't take it personal. I just learned a long time ago that I do better on my own."

Emma gives him a look that pleads for understanding and he finds the courage to meet her eyes. He sees something there, something achingly familiar and yet totally foreign. As if he had seen the look a thousand times in a dream that he can't quite remember. She looks lost.

"You don't want to be hurt or abandoned again. So you don't let people in." The words come out all on their own; a truth he had distilled about her that demanded to be said. He ducks his head and his glasses slip; he pushes them up. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that. I am not trying to pry."

She gives her head a little shake. "It's fine." Her tone contradicts her words. "I gotta go." She grabs the bag and coffee and quickly makes her retreat.

"Emma." She pauses at the door. "You don't have to worry. I won't tell Regina about your little mutiny."

This earns him a small smile. "Mutiny? Am I a pirate now?"

He gives a soft chuckle. "Come to think of it Captain Swan is an excellent pirate name."

"Really? And what would you know about pirates?"

He raises his eyebrows and gestures to the books. "I'm a librarian, love."

She gives a laugh and shaking her head she pushes through the door and disappears. He stares after her until the clock high above him chimes the hour. James feels a strange prickle on his skin. Things were changing.


	6. Happy New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between 1.11 "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree" and 1.12 "Skin Deep" which as best as I can tell is when the holidays occurred.

The streets of Storybrooke were quiet–not normal Storybrooke quiet but bordering on ghost town quiet–as Emma made her way from the apartment to the station. She wondered if she was the only one in town not nursing a New Year's hangover; a perk of being Sheriff. Instead of partying last night she had worked, breaking up drunken fights and chasing down rowdy teenagers. At three am she had returned to the loft and a very sad and very drunk Mary-Margaret. Being David Nolan's mistress didn't include going to Granny's New Year's Eve party together and the school teacher had opted to stay home instead. An idea Emma fully endorsed (though technically she wasn't supposed to know about the affair).

Emma had done her best to comfort her and get her into bed before dropping to sleep herself only to be woken at seven by her alarm clock. Despite her late night she needed to go check on Leroy and Carl in the cells and handle the paperwork from the night's incidents. She had left her roommate fast asleep with some Advil and a bottle of water on the bedside table. Then walked out into the quiet streets.

Even Granny's was subdued as she dropped in to get her coffee. Ruby yawned as she poured her to-go cup.

"Rough night?"

The waitress smiled. "Not in the good way."

Emma laughed. "No New Year's fling then?" She thought briefly of James. Ruby had invited the librarian to the party repeatedly and Emma had encouraged him to attend.

"Well there was a rather hot kiss at midnight." Ruby handed her the cup and leaned forward but before she could share details her grandmother spotted her.

"Ruby! Come man the cash register."

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh she stomped away leaving Emma in suspense. She had been encouraging James to ask Ruby out for at least a month. Ruby was clearly interested and Emma thought if James could get over his shyness they might make a cute couple. Emma thought somebody deserved to find a little luck in love and she could think of nobody more deserving than James.

He had become a true friend since the playground fiasco. Regina had restricted her interaction with Henry but James had stepped in to help. He passed notes between them and sometimes arranged for quick meetings; the library was far easier to sneak a visit than Granny's. It seemed Regina didn't suspect the shy librarian of defying her. Emma herself had been surprised but very grateful for such a friend.

As she passed the library she was surprised to hear the low hum of someone singing. She rolled her eyes. Of course James would be at work and singing while the whole town slept. She paused at the libraries double doors and listened to the lilt of his voice.

"Never smile at a crocodile." He nearly belted the line.

She grinned. Henry had told her of his plan to get James to watch Peter Pan when she first arrived.

"Maybe it will trigger a memory!" He had claimed.

It seemed like he had succeeded though Emma doubted it had triggered any memories. Emma checked her phone and decided she had time to stop in. She pulled open the door and stepped in. He was crouching in front of the circulation desk, his back to her and a box of Christmas decorations beside him, singing as he took down the garland and snowflakes that had been there since the day after Thanksgiving.

"Clear the aisle but never smile at Mister–" He turned his head slightly and caught her standing at the door and started. He toppled over, his hand landing in the box and his prosthetic flailing as he hit the floor. Emma couldn't help but laugh as she crossed to him. If Ruby could see him now.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

His ears were a bright pink as he scrambled to his feet.

"Emma! I…uh…didn't expect you this morning." He brushed at his jeans and pulled at his shirt before pushing up his glasses. His shirt was a henley with the top buttons undone and a generous amount of chest heir on display. She tried not to stare but she had never seen him in anything but dress pants and collared shirts with ties. She liked the change but thought again that he might look better with scruff instead of being clean shaven.

"The casual look is good on you." She found herself saying. He blushed and fiddled his fingers.

"Yes. Well. Technically the library is closed. I am just cleaning up the holiday decorations." He gestured to the box at his feet.

"And giving an impromptu concert." She gave him a smirk and he blushed again. Emma had never known a man who blushed as often as James Stuart. "It's okay. I know how that song can get in your head."

He gave her a smile. "Aye. It is catchy but it helps pass the time."

Emma looked around. The library was covered in decorations and she wondered how long it took a one-handed man to put them up and take them all down.

"Do you need some help? I have some time before I really need to be at the station." She placed her coffee cup on the desk.

"Oh no, it's fine. I can manage. Don't trouble yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "It's no trouble." Without pausing to listen to his protests she crouched down and started to remove the snowflakes from the circulation desk. Wordlessly he joined her. They worked in silence for awhile. Emma appreciated that James was comfortable with silence. So many people wanted to fill it, to talk and be heard, but James seemed content to let Emma talk when she wanted. Strangely this made her more willing to talk and share with him.

"So you finally saw Peter Pan then?"

He chuckled. "Yes. It's quite different from the book."

"Really? How?"

"Well Captain Hook is unrecognizable for one. And Peter comes off as some kind of hero."

"Peter isn't a hero in the book?"

"I think most would call him morally ambiguous. He cares more for fun then he does for anything else." James voice warmed to the subject and Emma listened with a small smile as he talked about his distaste for the boy who never grew up. From there it took little prompting for him to describe the differences between the book version of Captain Hook and the movie version.

"Honestly, Captain Hook as written by Barrie is a fascinating character."

Emma smirked. "Don't let Henry hear you say that."

"Why? Is the lad partial to Pan?"

Emma didn't know how to explain that Henry thought the librarian was a cursed version of Captain Hook and she was pretty sure that she would be violating the rules of Operation Cobra if she did. So she shrugged.

"No I think he would agree with you. He seems to really like Captain Hook."

Emma was reasonably sure Henry's appreciation for the pirate was only because he liked James and thought they were the same person but she didn't mention that either.

"How is Henry?" She asked instead knowing James had probably seen him over the last few days.

"The lad is doing well. Santa was very generous this year. Though he was upset he wasn't allowed to see you."

"Yeah. Well Regina said she didn't want to set a precedent when i wasn't going to be around for the next Christmas." Emma had wanted to take the woman's head off for that comment. Partly because deep down she worried that Regina might be right.

"That's ridiculous. Anyone can see that you are here for the long haul."

Emma smiled. James had a way of restoring her confidence and spirits with only a few words.

She changed the subject to the holidays with the intent of discovering if he had gone to Granny's after all.

Emma had spent Christmas with Mary-Margaret and some of her friends; a not unpleasant experience but still strange after so many years of being alone. James had spent his reading by the light of a fake television fire and then volunteering with the nuns for Christmas dinner. Emma felt a little guilty that she hadn't invited him to their party, even though she hadn't known they were having a party until Christmas Eve. Before she could bring up New Year's Eve they finished the circulation desk.

"I'll go get the step ladder for the door." James said.

"Okay I'll start on the wall."

As James disappeared Emma moved to the wall covered with coloring competition art from the elementary kids. The orange and green snowmen mixed in with the more traditionally colored ones and Emma smiled as she pulled them off. It didn't take long and when she finished James had yet to reappear.

Emma examined the doorway. A green garland was strung around the frame with a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the center. She had teased James about the mistletoe. Claiming he had hung it there to get unsuspecting girls to make out with him. He had flushed full red and stuttered enough for Emma to know the thought had never crossed his mind.

Impatient Emma grabbed a chair from one of the central tables and scooted it to the doorway. She climbed on top of it and stood on her tip toes to reach the garland. Soon she realized why James had wanted to use a ladder as the garland was attached to hooks in the wall. Her calves ached as she tried to maintain her height as she untangled it.

"Emma! Be careful!" She turned toward James as he set the ladder down and walked toward her.

"I almost got it," she grunted and then pulled hard. The garland gave way but threw her off balance and the chair slid away as she fell. Instead of colliding with the polished wooden floor she found herself slam into James's arms. They stumbled, Emma pressed against him as he steadied her his arms around her back, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" He sounded breathless.

Emma nodded and blinked still disoriented by the fall but even more disoriented by the strange flip in her stomach as their eyes met. She had never noticed how blue they were but then they were always hidden behind glasses and in the scuffle his had fallen off. Standing almost pressed against him, her heart thundering, she traced the lines of his face with her eyes and was surprised to discover just how attractive she found him. How had she never noticed that? She licked her lips and his eyes followed the movement. His eyes flicked from her lips to the ceiling and hers followed.

They were under the mistletoe.

She gave him a smile. "It is tradition." The words came out softer and huskier than she intended.

His arms tightened, drawing her closer and she closed her eyes. She felt his breath hot on her lips and she imagined him looking her over with his intense gaze. Then he was leaning in and his lips grazed her cheek in a quick and chaste kiss. Disappointment swept through her as he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open. He was bending down to pick up his glasses and Emma struggled to pick up her dignity. She took a step back, the need to run overwhelming, as her emotions ran riot inside. Her phone rang and she breathed a sigh of relief. She turned her back on James and took a few steps away to answer.

"Emma."

"Hey," Mary-Margaret's tired voice replied. "Just wanted to thank you for last night and the water this morning."

"Yeah. Sure thing. No problem."

"Can I bring you Granny's for lunch?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. I'll see you in a bit. Bye."

"Bye."

Emma ended the call and took a steadying breath before spinning back to James. He was watching her carefully, his head slightly cocked.

"Dispatch. I gotta run."

He nodded but his eyes remained thoughtful. "Of course. Thanks for everything."

"No problem." She backed up just stopping herself from sprinting out the door. "I'll see you later."

He pushed up his glasses but didn't smile. "Goodbye Emma."

Emma escaped out the double doors and onto the sidewalk. She touched her cheek, shook her head, and walked briskly down the street. James was her friend, her good friend, and that's how it needed to stay. She didn't know what had possessed her to want to kiss him. She didn't want a relationship with James she didn't want a relationship with anyone. She touched the leather shoelace wrapped around her wrist and then ran a finger over her swan pendant. Whatever had just occurred between them she would pretend it had never happened and never speak of it again.

Somethings were best left unsaid.


	7. Valentines Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during 1.12 Skin Deep

The thing James loved about being a librarian was the opportunity to glimpse into the lives of his fellow townspeople through what they read. He knew Ellie wanted to travel because she was always sneaking in and reading back issues of National Geographic. He knew Billy was trying to get a promotion at work by all the technical automotive manuals he had been checking out. He knew Michael was stressing about his new role as a parent by the four parenting books he had just requested. And he knew something was going on between David Nolan and Mary-Margaret by her absence and his sudden interest in literature.

First had been _Mysterious Island_ by Jules Verne a book that James knew Mary-Margaret was reading as they had recently discussed it.

"Are you sure you want to read this one? It would be better to start with _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_. This is almost a sequel." James had mentioned when Nolan had brought the book to the circulation desk.

"Oh? Really? Maybe I'll just get them both." David had shifted his feet and given a half-smile that struck James as suspicious before disappearing into the library and coming back with the other book.

This morning David had picked up _Anna Karenina_ which was Mary-Margaret's favorite book. James recognized the irony that it was a famous story about a tragic love affair but he didn't say anything to Nolan; it wasn't his place. Just as it wasn't his place to mention that his wife was overdue in returning _What To Expect When You're Expecting_ and had been checking out LSAT Test Prep books.

Though it wasn't his place James found the entire thing distasteful. He could not conceive of a reason to break marriage vows or sneak behind the back of your partner. That's why when he had stood under the mistletoe with Emma Swan in his arms on New Years Day he had refrained from anything but a chaste kiss to the cheek. Only hours before he had kissed Ruby at the stroke of midnight and made plans with her for that weekend. To kiss Emma, no matter how badly he wanted too, would have been dishonorable and disrespectful to Ruby.

James liked the gorgeous, leggy waitress, she was outgoing where he was shy, she pushed the limits while he followed the rules, she made him laugh and kissed him with fervor after each of their dates. But the kissing hadn't gone beyond the front door and the liking had never increased into anything more. He didn't think of Ruby much when they weren't together but his thoughts often turned to the look on Emma's face under the mistletoe or the way her nose scrunched when she laughed. She had not brought up the incident or changed the way she treated him but then she also knew he was seeing Ruby. It seemed she was content with friendship but James sometimes caught something in her eye or the lift of her lips that made him feel as if there could be more between them. He just needed to work up the courage to take the next step.

As if summoned by his thoughts Emma walked through the library doors. Her golden hair was curled and tucked under a beanie, her Sheriff badge shined at the waist of her jeans, and a beguiling smile was on her face as she walked up to his desk.

"Have you bought flowers yet?" she asked with no preamble.

"Flowers? No. Why?"

She pressed her hands to the wood and leaned slightly forward as she shook her head. "It's the day before Valentine's Day. Flowers are kind of mandatory or do they not do that in England?"

"They do but–" James knew this was the perfect chance to explain that he was no longer seeing Ruby but Emma cut him off.

"Good. I need you to go to Game of Thorns and keep Moe French busy for a half-hour or so."

"Can I ask what for?" The odd nature of the request distracted him from his purpose.

"Official police business. I am waiting on a warrant and I don't want him to get the chance to move the evidence."

James pushed up his glasses, her answer only left him with more questions but he knew she wouldn't comment on an active investigation so he nodded. "Alright. Just let me close up for lunch."

She grinned at him. "I knew I could count on you. Thanks."He felt a blush stain his cheek–flattered she had asked for his help–as Emma hurried away.

Distracting Moe turned out to be very easy. The man loved his plants and once James got him talking about orchids the time passed quickly. After almost fifty minutes James said he had to get back to the library. He purchased the bouquet of white lilies with bunches of forget-me-nots that had caught his eye when he walked in. It wasn't the traditional roses but James felt drawn to them. His task done he returned to the library and placed the flowers in water. He didn't hear from Emma for the rest of the day but he thought of her every time his eyes fell on the flowers and he imagined her face when he gave them to her. That afternoon, knowing how nervous and tongue tied he could get, James wrote a short letter to explain his intentions toward Emma and placed it in the flowers.

The next morning the town was abuzz with rumors that Mr. Gold had been arrested and Moe French was in the hospital. He looked for Emma at Granny's when he got his coffee and he hoped she would stop by in the morning but when she didn't show James decided to seek her out. He took an early lunch, pulled on his beige blazer, straightened his blue tie, grabbed the flowers, and headed for the station.

As he walked his stomach rolled as if he was on a rocking boat and his sea-sickness was beginning to take hold. He struggled to slow his breathing. He knew when he gave the flowers and card to Emma everything would change and he wasn't sure it would be for the better. There was no guarantee she returned his feelings or was even interested in anything beyond friendship with him. When he walked into the station his heart nearly beating out of his chest he was both disappointed and thrilled to discover that Emma was not at her desk. He stood there looking at her half-eaten sandwich–pastrami on wheat an abomination only slightly better than bologna–and wondered if it would be better to leave the flowers or maybe forget the idea entirely.

"She went to get ice cream with her boy." James started and turned to see Mr. Gold sitting on a cot in the jail cell. He flushed. "I can tell her you stopped by." The pawnbroker gave him a leer that said he knew exactly what the flowers meant.

"No. That's–uh–that's fine. Maybe I'll catch her some other time."

"Love is a precious thing Mr. Stuart. Best enjoy it while you can." Mr. Gold's voice was low, almost threatening. Then he looked down and tenderly stared at a delicate white tea cup and James wondered if maybe it wasn't a threat but a warning from a heartbroken soul. He watched the pawnbroker for a long moment but he didn't look back up from his cup. Uncomfortable in Mr. Gold's presence and not wanting him to witness his romantic gesture James decided not to wait for Emma

As he exited the station he was lost in his thoughts and almost collided with Mary-Margaret on the steps.

"I am so sorry! " He apologized after the initial shock.

"No! It's me who should apologize! I wasn't paying attention." They gave each other sheepish grins and then Mary-Margaret looked toward the station "I came to see if Emma wanted company."

"She isn't in."

"Oh." The dead and lost sound in that single syllable made James pause. He tilted his head and really looked at her. She had dark rings around red eyes, her skirt was rumpled as if she hadn't paid much attention to her clothes that morning, and her hands were empty of any gifts. It didn't take a genius to guess that her Valentine's Day was not going well. He thought of David Nolan and wondered just what had happened. He wanted to tell Mary-Margaret that she deserved better than to be one side of a love triangle, that she deserved better than a man who didn't have the courage to be only with her. But he wasn't supposed to know about their affair and so on impulse he pushed the flowers toward her.

"Here."

Surprised she took them gingerly, her eyes wide. "James! I–They are beautiful! But why are you giving these to me?"

He shrugged. "It's Valentine's Day and you are the kindest person I know. I think that deserves flowers."

She looked down at the spray of blue and white and smelled them with sparkling eyes. Then without warning she threw her hands around his waist and pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back. He didn't remember the last time he had hugged a friend and it filled him up with a warmth he hadn't expected.

"Thank you," she murmured into his lapel before releasing him and wiping at her eyes.

He gave her a genuine smile and a nod and then turned to leave. He was a few steps down the sidewalk when Mary-Margaret called him back.

"You might want this." She offered him the small envelop with "Emma" written in his loopy cursive.

He blushed all the way to the tips of his ears as he walked back to retrieve it.

"Okay, I may have intended those for someone else but I meant what I said; you deserve to be happy Mary-Margaret."

To his surprise the school teacher laughed. "The fact that you gave me Emma's flowers only makes them more special. But a word of advice?" He met her eyes and pushed at his glasses. "Emma has walls a mile high and if you declare your feelings with flowers and grand gestures she will feel pressured and push you away."

"What do you suggest I do then?"

"Trick her into dating you. Bring her coffee, meet up casually for lunch, that kind of thing. Then once she has gotten used to the idea of having you in her life ask her on a regular date."

"And you think that will work?"

"You are a great guy and Emma has a lot of love to give. If you are willing to be patient and it is meant to be I think she will come around, eventually."

He smiled. "Thanks Mary-Margaret."

She returned the grin. "No, thank you. It was nice to think of someone else's relationship problems."

He gave a short laugh and left her standing there smelling her flowers.

He spent the afternoon thinking about Mary-Margaret's advice and re-thinking his plan regarding Emma. When she showed up near closing time in a burgundy sweater and bright eyes he listened politely as she explained all that had happened with Mr. Gold and Mr. French. He didn't mention the flowers, the holiday, or his feelings.

"Sounds like you had a rather exciting time."

"I did. Sometimes I miss the excitement of chasing down dirtbags," she replied as she leaned against the shelf and watched him replace books.

"Is Mr. Gold a dirtbag?"

"I don't know what he is. I wish I knew just what happened between him and French."

James gave a hum and wondered if he should share his exchange with the man but decided he would rather not explain why he was at the station. There was a pleasant silence as he worked and she stared off into space. He liked that they could be silent together and it never felt uncomfortable.

"Mary-Margaret and I are spending the night at home with chocolate and whiskey."

"That sounds nice." He took the change in topic in stride.

So–" She let the word dangle and he turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You have any big plans with Ruby?" She asked the question with what he hoped was more than casual curiosity. He slid a book back to where it belonged before turning fully toward her.

"Actually no. Ruby and I are no longer seeing each other."

She gave a thoughtful hum. "I wondered when she suggested girls night the other day."

"Yes, well, I am sorry. I know you were keen for us to work out."

Emma pushed away from the shelf to stand upright and face him. "I never said that. I just thought it would be good for you to get out more and Ruby was pretty eager." His heart gave a little thud at the defensive, almost jealous, note in her voice. "I'm sorry she broke up with you. I know how much that sucks."

Her hand went up and rubbed at the swan pendant she always wore. He wondered who had given it to her.

He gave her a wry smile. "Don't pity me too much. I know it's hard to believe but I was the one that ended it." Her eyebrows rose and he scratched behind his ear and shrugged. "We just weren't a good fit."

"Oh." The single syllable and the long pause that followed filled him with hope. "Well don't give up, James. I am sure you will find someone that fits."

"Oh I am very confident that I will."

Their eyes caught and held. He felt a current of electricity spark between them and she blinked rapidly. He turned back to his cart of books before she could see the smirk he couldn't stop from forming. Mary-Margaret had told him to be patient and he planned on following her advice. But he had hope that he wouldn't have to wait too long.


	8. Sink or Swim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This installment takes place during/after 1.15 "Red-Handed"

James Stuart breathed in the sharp sea air and then breathed out so forcefully that his glasses fogged; obscuring the ocean and the horizon he came to contemplate. Though March was ending Spring had not yet reached Maine and he was wrapped in his navy blue peacoat with a stocking cap pulled over his ears. He stood on the end of the fishing docks as twilight gave way to night with his eyes focused on the sea and his ears full of the sound of the waves pounding the nearby beach. He had found himself seeking out the ocean more and more in the past weeks; it made him calm in a strange way to walk along the beach or simply stare at the horizon. Defying Regina, helping Emma, comforting Mary-Margaret, and his own growing disquiet with his life, had all been reasons to seek out that calm but tonight the ocean had called to him for an entirely different reason.

Emma had agreed to go on a date with him. Not a casual shared coffee at the station or a meet-up on their lunch breaks but somewhere at night, somewhere not Granny's. He had promised her he would take her mind off of Kathryn Nolan and the investigation. But as the day loomed near he was afraid he wouldn't be able to deliver on his promise and so he had come to the docks for solace. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the approaching footsteps or the tap of a cane on the old wooden dock.

"Evening Mr. Stuart."

James started and turned to see Mr. Gold drawing up beside him.

"Good evening Mr. Gold." The pawn broker had been paying him a lot of odd visits at the library and sometimes James felt his eyes watching him from across the street so it wasn’t entirely surprising to find him here although it was very unnerving. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he focused on the mans tight, almost threatening, smile.

"You know Mr. Stuart I do believe that Regina is unaware of our history together."

"Pardon? " James furrowed his brow.

"She no doubt brought you here as some kind of insurance. She knows you want to kill me but assumes you are just one of the many faceless people I have wronged in my time. She has no clue you are my oldest enemy."

"Kill you? Mr. Gold I don't have any idea what you are talking about. I don't want to kill you."

The smile grew larger, turned feral. "Oh I believe Mr. Stuart wouldn't harm a fly. But Captain Killian Jones? Well, he is a dirty, ruthless pirate intent on my death and in this land while I am powerless he could accomplish it."

James shook his head. "You aren't making any sense."

"I know, dearie. And how I wish you had your memories to make this all the more sweeter. But I am about to double cross Regina and when I do I don't want her to awaken her vengeful pirate. To win this game I need to remove you from the board." The man lifted his cane from the ground in a casual movement but James felt his body tense. Mr. Gold sounded deranged and almost dangerous. There was also a malice in his voice that struck fear in the librarian. Nervously he scratched behind his ear and took a step back.

"Well it was nice talking to you but it's getting late. I should go." He took another step backward and then turned. He didn't see Gold raise the cane and swing it back but he felt when the heavy metal handle smashed into the back of his head. Stars flashed in his eyes as his body slumped. Gold pushed him as he crumpled and he tumbled the four feet down and into the water.

The cold ocean embraced him as his senses reeled. The blow had left him disoriented but still conscious, barely. The riptide pulled at him sweeping him out to sea as he sank deeper into the water. His body reacted on instinct, an instinct he shouldn't have because James Stuart had never been swimming in his life, and he began to kick and sweep his arms. While struggling towards the surface he pulled himself with the current somehow knowing not to fight it. He broke the surface and took a sputtering breath but the current still pulled at him and his head throbbed. In the gathering darkness he could make out the shore, it seemed miles away and blurry at the edges. He started to swim parallel to it hoping to escape the riptide but his body began to feel clumsy and his head ached. Black spots swam in his eyes and he thought it would just be easier to let himself sink. Then the black overtook his vision completely and he saw no more.

The darkness was shattered by a flash of light and images flooded his mind.

A man he doesn't know lights a lantern and smiles.  
_"We're all braver than we think if we just look deep enough."_

He walks the deck of a ship; tall and proud as he inspects sailors.  
_"Drunkeness leads to bad form"_

The mayor, dressed in a strange outfit, offers him a drink  
_"Things are about to change in this world. I have plans to enact a curse."_

Mr. Gold trembles before him in rags.  
_"You have my wife."  
"I've had many a man's wife"_

His laugh echoes as the images come faster.

He fixes the collar of another man with pride and love.  
_"I will follow you to the ends of the earth, brother."_

On the ship once more but pain and rage are boiling through him as he stares down a grinning and triumphant Mr. Gold.  
_"I'll have what I came for now."  
"You'll have to kill me first!"_   

A sword rings and his severed hand falls to the deck as he screams in agony.

He stands at the helm of his ship the wind blowing from a swirling vortex.  
_"What's the name of the place we're headed Captain?"  
"Neverland!"_

"James. Stay with me. Stay with me James. Damn it!"  

A familiar and panicked voice broke through the images offering him a lifeline. He grabbed hold of it and pulled himself to consciousness. The visions faded, he felt hands on his chest, and suddenly he was coughing; gasping for breath as someone rolled him to his side.

"Easy, easy there." Soft hands stroked his sodden hair back from his face.

He breathed deep and pain blossomed in his chest. He coughed harder and then fell back onto the sand. He registered then that he was on the beach and it was night. He stared at the sky. The stars looked wrong and the thought sent a shiver of panic through him. Then he realized he was soaking wet and he shivered harder.

"Come on. We got to warm you up." He registered the voice and turned his focus to the woman leaning over him. Emma's hair hung in a golden curtain lit by the moon and a dim light from the nearby parking lot. He reached up a hand to stroke her cheek.

"Hello beautiful."

She smiled and his heart squeezed.

"This isn't the time for compliments, Stuart."

He dropped his hand leaving a smudge of sand on her cheek and struggled to sit up. His coat was gone. His dress shirt was clinging to him soaked and unbuttoned exposing his chest to the night air. His teeth clattered and she helped him to stand. He wobbled as pain bloomed in his head and she slid underneath his arm to prop him up. She pressed against his side as they walked to the car and it warmed him better than any blanket.

With each lungful of air he regained more of his composure and with each step the visions he had seen felt less like memories and more like strange dreams. He continued to shiver.

"You are soaked. We have to get you out of these clothes."

"Anxious to get me naked, love?" He murmured and then flushed with embarrassment. Where had that come from? Amazingly Emma wasn't offended; he felt her body shake in laughter.

"I am going to have Dr. Whale check you for head trauma."

She settled him into the police cruiser and grabbed a few blankets from the trunk before climbing into the drivers seat.

"Alright. Hospital." Emma started up the car and cranked the heat to full blast.

"Is that really necessary?" The thought of the bright lights and the inquisitive doctor filled him with dread.

"James, I just found you washed up, unconscious, and not breathing. I actually started CPR before you came too. If I hadn't been on patrol you could have died. You need to get checked out and then you need to tell me exactly what happened." Her voice was clipped and angry; there would be no use arguing with her. The thought of talking about what had just happened filled him mild panic but he nodded.

"Okay."

To distract himself he turned his attention to his open shirt but when he went to button it he found the buttons had been popped off.

"Sorry about that. I was going to do chest compressions. But the mouth-to-mouth did the trick" Emma flushed as she shoved a blanket at him.

James lifted an eyebrow. The thought of Emma ripping at his shirt, caressing his chest, and touching her lips to his seemed more erotic than a life saving situation should. He went to push up his glasses only to discover they were missing, lost in the ocean along with his hat.

He blinked. How could he see with no glasses? A deep unease settled in his gut.

Suddenly the memory of Gold’s rantings resurfaced. The man had tried to preemptively murder him and James realized he had no intention of telling Emma. Maybe it was the memory of his dreams or the way the name Killian Jones now felt familiar instead of strange. Maybe it was the fear of what Gold would do to Emma if she got involved for he knew now just how dangerous the man was. Or maybe it was the feeling deep in James's bones that something was wrong, that he had changed in the ocean, been reborn in a salt water baptism.

He glanced at Emma. He should tell her everything but he had nothing to tell, yet. A lie would be easier. A lie would give him time to figure out for himself just who was Killian Jones and why he wanted to kill Mr. Gold.


	9. We're All Cursed Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after 1.17 Hat Trick

Emma contemplated the illustration of the Mad Hatter thoughtfully as she sipped at her Coke. Henry had given her his book that morning; his smile heartbreakingly hopeful at her interest. She hadn't told him about Jefferson or the kidnapping and she didn't plan to. But she had to talk to someone and so had brought the book with her to lunch in the hopes of discussing it with James. She had plopped into her usual booth at Granny's and read while she waited for her grilled cheese and the librarian.

She was half-way through her meal when it occurred to her he might not be coming. They hadn't made arrangements to meet but they never made arrangements. It just happened that they both liked the diner and had lunch breaks at the same time. At least that is what Emma had been telling herself right up until the afternoon almost a week ago when James asked if she would like to go to dinner with him and she realized that she had been lying to herself since that moment under the mistletoe. What she felt for James was more than just casual friendship.

She had said yes because she couldn't refuse him when he looked so hopeful, blushing as he scratched behind his ear. But later as she hung her jacket next to Graham's and rubbed at her swan pendant she had determined that they could never be anything more than friends. No matter how attractive she found him–and she could admit that he was attractive in a lost puppy way–or how well they got along, they could never grow into something more. James was a wonderful person but deep down Emma knew that he could never truly understand her. How could a man that had lived a happy, normal life, and whose idea of breaking the rules was returning a library book late ever comprehend all the broken pieces that made up Emma Swan? She had rehearsed her friend zone speech a few times but never delivered it because between Kathryn Nolan's murder, James' near drowning, and Mary-Margaret's arrest, the date had never happened.

The front door opened and Emma looked up from the book only to be disappointed by the appearance of Carl and Ellie shuffling into the diner.

"That book worm of yours stand you up?" Emma twisted to see Granny standing just behind her with her arms crossed and a to-go sack in hand.

"He isn't my anything and it's not like we had plans to eat together."

The older woman gave a "humph" and held out the white bag. "Right. Well I made his usual if you want to deliver it."

Emma took the offering and muttered a thank you. Then she grabbed Henry's book and went to the counter to pay for both meals. As she exited Granny's and headed for the library she tried not to think of the knowing look in the Widow Lucas' eyes.

The library was locked. Emma frowned at the door. She had thought James was working through his lunch but it seemed he had just gone somewhere else instead of meeting her. There was a sharp sting in her chest that Emma didn't want to examine. He was a free man, they were only friends. She lingered for a moment wondering what to do with his food.

"Emma!" She turned to see James rounding the corner; brought up short by her presence. He looked different. His shirt was a familiar deep navy but he lacked his usual blazer or cardigan, his top buttons were undone and his glasses were missing. Most disconcerting of all was the beginning of a 5 o'clock shadow on his usually clean shaven face. Her heart gave a hiccup. 

"James?" It came out as a question because it felt like she was seeing a different person. She knew she was staring and quickly shoved the to-go bag toward him. "You weren't at lunch. I–well Granny really–thought you might be hungry."

His eyes flicked down to the bag. "How thoughtful. Just let me–" He motioned to the door, key in his hand.

Emma shook her head mentally urging herself to get it together. "Yeah. Of course."

She stepped back from the door so he could unlock and open it. He ushered her in and as she squeezed past him she had the strangest feeling that he was taller. He flicked on the lights as she walked to the circulation desk and deposited both the bag and the book. She turned around suddenly feeling awkward and needing to retreat.

"I really appreciate the food. I got a little sidetracked down at the museum and lost track of time." He gave her a sheepish smile and Emma felt the awkwardness melt away. This was her friend no matter how different his clothes.

"The museum?" she asked.

"Aye, the one down by the docks."

"Oh, with the boat?" The image of the old sailing vessel painted in yellow and black moored next to a long brown building flashed in Emma's mind.

"Ship," he corrected.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Ship. Boat. Does it matter?"

His gaze was momentarily intense before he shrugged. "I just think a vessel as magnificent as that deserves the proper respect." He looked down into the bag a slight flush to his cheek. Emma wanted to dig deeper into his sudden love of things nautical but her eyes caught on the book and she remembered the reason she wanted to see him in the first place.

"Can we talk?" She burst out louder than she intended.

"I find when a woman says that I am rarely in for a pleasant conversation."His lips ticked up slightly and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Seriously it's important. I need your opinion on something."

His smile dropped a look of concern crossing his features and he nodded. "Sure. Do you want to sit?"

He rolled back one of the chairs behind the desk and she circled around and sat. He watched her intently as he sunk into the other chair.

She waved toward his food. "You might as well eat this is going to take awhile."

He reached for the bag and Emma took a deep breath suddenly realizing she didn't know exactly where to start. Jefferson's insane ravings had so closely matched Henry's delusion. He had been so sure about the curse and about magic. Then there was the scar on his neck and his strange disappearance. It had all been so surreal.And Emma knew he was just a sad, lonely man but seeing the picture in Henry's book had made her heart race and her palms sweat. She needed some perspective. She needed someone to reassure her; to tell her that curses and magic were impossible.

She reached for Henry's book. 

"Do you know why Henry is in therapy?"

James furrowed his brow. "I assumed it was because of his anger and feelings of abandonment when he discovered he was adopted."

Emma pushed away a pang of guilt as she shook her head. "Not exactly. He has built a delusion around the fairytales in this book." She placed her hands on the soft leather cover. "He thinks that everyone who lives in Storybrooke was cursed here by Regina."

"Cursed." The word is oddly strangled but she doesn't look up to meet his eye. She needed to get through this.

"Yeah, cursed as in with magic. Everyone here comes from some fairytale land and is living a fake life with fake memories. He thinks Regina is the Evil Queen from the Snow White fairytale and I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. That Mary-Margaret and David are my parents but they are cursed and I am here to break their curse and bring back all the happy endings."

She paused and waited for James to laugh or tell her how ridiculous it was but he was silent. She looked up from the book to find him staring at his hand as he rubbed the bottom of his fingers with his thumb.

"It's insane right?" She prompted.

His eyes snapped to hers and there was something strange in them she couldn't identify. Then he blinked and ducked his head.

"It's certainly an imaginative and unique delusion."

Emma chewed on her lip. "Yeah, except I met a guy last night that had the same exact delusion."

Before James could ask for details she was spilling out the story. She did her best to emphasis the crazy things Jefferson said and did and left out the moments when he had made sense and his story almost seemed plausible. James listened with rapt attention exclaiming over the kidnapping and congratulating Emma on beating Jefferson but making no statements about how insane it all sounded. When she got to the part about his scar she flipped to the page in the storybook that looked eerily like the man she had met. James let out a low hum and asked.

"If he was cursed like the rest of the town then how did he explain being able to remember his other life?"

"He said it was Regina's punishment. That he was trapped by knowledge and forced to live in a land where he doesn't belong. That holding conflicting realities in his head was driving him mad."

James rubbed his chin. "It would be very difficult to reconcile two identities especially if they were very different. To try and sort out what was true and what was false could be torture. But then wouldn't it be better to know who you are rather than live a lie?"

Emma stared at the librarian in confusion. This was not the reaction she had expected.

"Are you serious? Jefferson isn't really the Mad Hatter. He just thinks he is." She flipped Henry's book to the page of Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding. "Magic isn't real.These aren't my parents. My parent's abandoned me because they were selfish not because they needed me to break a curse. " She knew her voice had taken on an angry edge but she had come to James for reassurance not to discuss the philosophical nature of Jefferson's insanity.

Suddenly she felt his hand warm on hers. They had never held hands before and the spark that traveled between them made her stop and look up at him.

"I didn't mean to upset you Emma. I have recently become interested in past lives and I was just intrigued by the possibilities. You are right the whole thing is ludicrous. There is no world but this one." His voice was slow and calming and she took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. It's been a rough couple days and I just had a really strange night."

He shook his head "No need to apologize. The wounds from childhood run deep. And an orphan never really gets over being an orphan."

Emma blinked away a tear. James had somehow understood exactly why Jefferson had gotten to her. Because deep down she wished there was a good explanation for what her parents had done, that there was still a chance for the family and the happily ever after she had dreamed of as a child but that wasn't reality. The reality was that she would always be an orphan.

She met his eyes and there was a long pause. Emma became very aware of the heat of his hand and the way their knees were almost touching underneath the desk. She had told herself he could never understand her but now she wondered if she had judged him too quickly. Perhaps there was more to the blushing librarian than she knew?

Her phone chirped and James pulled his hand away as she reached for it. It was Sidney probably checking in about his search for dirt on Regina. Emma sent it to voicemail but the moment, whatever it was, had been broken.

"I should get going." She rose and reached for the book.

"Actually." He stood. "If you don't mind I would like to read it." He gave her a smile that she could only describe as winning. Emma shrugged. She had read the Mad Hatter story already and that was the only one she had been interested in.

"Sure. You can give it back to Henry when you see him."

"Absolutely." He looked down at the book and fanned the pages. "Out of curiosity who does Henry think I am, in the book?" The question seemed casual but Emma could tell that he really cared about his fairytale identity. She gave him a smirk and shoved her hands into her back pockets.

"It's not very original." She nodded to his prosthetic hand. "He thinks you're Captain Hook."

His eyebrow ticked up. "Really? Are you sure? Captain Hook?" He asked in disbelief.

"Were you hoping for a king or a prince? Being a pirate offend your law-abiding sensibilities?"

He smiled and leaned toward her while almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. "That depends do you like pirates, love?"

Emma rolled her eyes to cover the flip flop her stomach had done at the drop in his tone. "As long as they don't have perms or waxed mustaches."

"And are good with a sword?" He waggled his eyebrow and she laughed. He blushed, seemingly shocked at his own innuendo.

They grinned at each other for a long moment and then someone came into the library and Emma made her exit.

As she walked back to the station she felt lighter than she had in days and more hopeful than a person with a murder to solve and a best friend to exonerate had any right to be.


	10. A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during episode 1.19 “The Return” and hopefully was worth the wait!

The library was empty. The good citizens of Storybrooke knowing to stay clear during James’lunch hour. The sound of the clock opposite the circulation desk filled the silence. It’s rhythmic ticking the only thing to be heard. James stared at it without really seeing it.

Normally he would be making his way to Granny’s right now, a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. The minutes ticked away but he didn’t rise from his chair. Normally he would be sliding into the booth and waiting for Emma to arrive so he could share his thoughts and the details of his day. Normally his only problems were rowdy children at story time or organizing the youth reading program. Of course nothing had felt normal for James since Mr. Gold had attempted to murder him. With that plunge into the ocean his whole world had tilted off balance and it had yet to right itself. He was no longer just James Stuart he was something more, something other.

It was little things like how his glasses gave him a headache and his clothes felt itchy and wrong. It was how some mornings he would forget to shave and end up running upstairs during the day to tame his scruffy appearance. It was how he kept making embarrassing innuendos without thinking or using curse words he didn’t know he knew. It was also big things like the persistent, vivid, and disturbing dreams that felt more like memories and didn’t fade with the sun but plagued him throughout the day.

Henry had said the dreams were a good sign, that they meant the curse was weakening. James knew that meant Emma was getting closer to being reunited with her family and he wanted that happiness for her. But it also meant he was closer to getting all his memories back and with each day he grew more sure that he didn’t want to be Captain Hook. Because the dream-memories came with intense and foreign emotions; hot and explosive anger, dark and leaden self-loathing, a fierce and sharp joy in fighting or sailing, and a wide, aching loneliness that felt as vast as the ocean itself. The emotions dulled with the light of day but if James remembered his life as Captain Hook would he feel them all the time? And what other dark secrets were buried in his sub-conscious? People he had killed as a pirate? The identity of “Milah” from his tattoo? The reason why he supposedly wanted to murder Mr. Gold?What had happened to his hand? Henry was sure that James was a hero despite his story not being in the book but the librarian wasn’t so optimistic. Henry wanted the curse broken and everyones memories restored. James wasn’t sure that in his case forgetting was a curse.

Before he started remembering he had been happy with his library and his friends and his growing relationship with Emma. Now sometimes the library felt stuffy and confining. Now he looked at his friends and wondered about their past identities and if they would stay friends when the curse broke. Now he avoided Emma afraid of her kiss bringing back his memories and unsure if a relationship was even possible or desirable if he was nothing but a pirate.

The clock continued to tick away the lunch hour. James turned from it and told himself Emma wouldn’t notice him missing and that it was better to just fade from her life than risk hurting her later.After a few more long moments of wallowing he shook himself and tried to focus on his work.

He pulled out the box of recently returned books and laughed out loud when the first one he grabbed was “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde”. Then, since the library was quiet and he was in need of a distraction, he opened it and began to read hoping he might find some wisdom from how Dr. Jekyll dealt with his darker half.

He was almost finished with the book, having stopped to help Carl with his search for information on making balloon animals and to check out a few books on narcolepsy for Walter, when Henry came bouncing through the door and up to the circulation desk.

The boy looked at the cover of the book with a cocked head.

“Did you remember something about Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?” He asked in an excited and loud whisper.

James shook his head and put the book away. “Sorry, Henry. Just more sailing. Nothing about Mr. Hyde or anything that can help with Operation Cobra.”

His face fell a little and then perked back up. “Have you figured out how you are going to get Emma to kiss you?“ He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

James flushed and fiddled with his fingers rubbing at the places where in his dreams heavy rings sat. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with anyone let alone Henry.

“Ah. No. Not yet.” He gave him a half smile but Henry frowned; the lad desperately wanted him to remember.

“Well what about at the party tonight? People kiss at parties right?”

“I am not sure that would be the best time with all the people around.”

Henry rolled his eyes, a carbon copy of Emma in his annoyance. “You could go in a closet or bedroom or something.”

James’ face felt on fire as he scratched behind his ear. “Yes, Well–“

He was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of August. James had only met the scruffy stranger once but it had been enough for him to dislike the man. The self-proclaimed writer spoke in riddles, seemed very eager to insinuate himself into Emma’s life and in James’ opinion had overstayed his welcome. Their eyes met and he felt a stab of suspicion that he knew was more Captain Hook than James Stuart. August gave him a smirk but didn’t move any further into the library.

“Henry are you ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Henry called back to James’s surprise. The boy leaned over the desk “He believes too butdon’t tell Emma. Oh and I haven’t told him about you so don’t worry.” Then before James could protest Henry bounded away and out the door with August.

He moved briskly to the window and watched the two of them as they walked down the sidewalk. Henry crossed the street to Mr. Gold’s Pawnshop while August walked further down and then crossed the street to sneak toward the back entrance of the shop. James didn’t like the idea of Henry talking to the pawnbroker anymore than he did August being involved with Operation Cobra. What reason could a complete stranger have to indulge the strange delusion of a ten year old? James had memory like dreams, Emma’s encounter with the Mad Hatter, and the book to convince him. What had convinced August?

Like with his own memories James had questions but no answers.

 

He arrived at the party half an hour late, intent on congratulating Mary-Margaret and then leaving. The temptation to socialize with Emma would be too great if he stayed longer. He knocked at the door and ran a hand over his freshly shaved cheeks and carefully combed hair. He was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, a pale blue button-up, and grey cardigan. He didn’t have a bowtie or his glasses but in every other way he was James Stuart–no hint of Captain Hook. It felt strange.

Mary-Margaret opened the door with a warm smile. “James! You came!”

He smiled back “A congratulations-on-not-being-in-jail party? I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

She glanced back into the room. James followed her eyes to Emma and his heart squeezed. She was dressed in a simple ensemble of jeans and a blue sweater but she was a vision. Yes it was much easier to stick to his plan when she wasn’t temptingly before him. She was busy handing out punch and didn’t look towards the door. James let his gaze linger until Mary-Margaret cleared her throat. He blushed and ducked his head.

“Sorry.”

Mary-Margaret cocked her head her eyes studying him. Now that he knew it was hard not to see the family resemblance to Emma and Henry.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two but you clearly have feelings for each other. I don’t care what you do but do something.”

“It’s–It’s complicated,” he murmured.

“It always is. But nothing worth having ever comes easy and real love is worth having. Trust me.”

Her voice wavered on the last words and James felt guilt wash over him. She was trying to help him be happy when she was heartbroken over David. He opened his arms and she fell into them. The hug was quick, Mary-Margaret self-consciously pulled away so nobody would notice and then wiped at her eyes.

She shook her head. “Sorry. This is supposed to be a party.”

“Aye, so it is. But if you want me to throw this lot out so you can have a good cry just say the words.”

She laughed at that, the image of the meek librarian forcing people to go home no doubt hilarious. He smiled back and followed her into the festively decorated room. His good mood was quickly dampened by the sight of August and Henry talking with their heads together at the table.

“Ah. Mr. Stuart.” James felt dread sinking in his stomach as he turned toward the voice. Mr. Gold was impeccably dressed with a smirk and gleam in his eyes as he walked past the stair case toward him. James gave him a tight smile.

“Mr. Gold. I didn’t know you were friends with Mary-Margaret.”

His smirk curled into something like a smile. “Friends is perhaps a bit ambitious. Let’s say I have an interest in her affairs.”

James nodded, unsure what to say. Gold hadn’t spoken to him directly since that night on the docks. He assumed he believed the cover story–that James had no memory of how he got in the ocean due to the near-drowning and blow to the head while in the water–but had no way of knowing for sure. But as he met the mans cold eyes he was sure of one thing; Mr. Gold still wanted him dead. The certainty of the thought made him shiver. They both turned as the room grew silent and focused on Henry. James took a step forward and Gold slunk into the back of the apartment. Henry had stood with great ceremony and offered a large, red card to Mary-Margaret

Everyone laughed at Henry’s inscription (“we’re so glad you didn’t kill Mrs. Nolan”) though James only managed a small smile. It felt too soon to make light of the fact that Mary-Margaret had been a presumed murderer and close to a life sentence. Emma must have felt the same because she broke the moment.

“Hey Henry we should get you home before your mom finds out.” She put her hands on his shoulders and led him to the door. She paused when she saw James, still just inside the loft. Their eyes met and Emma’s flashed with anger before she looked away. His smile died on his lips. She had noticed his absence and she hated him for it.

“James!” Henry greeted him enthusiastically then turned pleading eyes up to Emma. “Can Mr. Stuart help take me home? I need to talk to him about a project. Please!”

The boy was too clever and manipulative for his own good. Still James found himself hoping Emma would say yes.

“No,” she said firmly without looking at James. “You can talk to him at the library tomorrow. That is if he isn’t too busy.”

The venom in her words felt like a blow to the gut and her refusal to look at him as steered Henry around him and out the door a slap to the face. He had wanted to keep Emma at arms length but he hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt. How his breath would come short and his chest tighten. How every part of his body would scream for him to go to her.

Nothing had changed. He was still afraid of his past, still scared of what he would become when he remembered, still sure that Emma wouldn’t want to be with Captain Hook, and still unsure that she wanted to be with James Stuart. But despite all that he realized that he couldn’t bear to become strangers again, couldn’t stand to not be part of her life. Mary-Margaret had told him to just do something and before he had consciously thought about it he was moving toward the door and flinging it open.

“Emma, wait.”

Her and Henry were only half-way down the stairs. Henry looked up at him with a smile before turning to his mother.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” he declared and then skipped down the stairs.

Emma took a deep breath and then charged back up toward him. He waited, shifting his weight with no idea what he was going to say. Then Emma was before him, her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing.

“What?”

“I–uh–well I wanted to say I am sorry. For avoiding you. ”

“Avoiding me? I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been busy what with the murder case and all.”

James knew then that he had hurt her. Knew from the way her eyes wouldn’t quite meet his and the way her voice was a little too level and laced with sarcasm. He had broken her trust, become just one more person she couldn’t count on and now she was pulling away from him.

He had to make it right. Had to show her that he cared, no matter the consequences. He took a step forward and she eyed him warily.

“Nevertheless I am sorry. I was being cowardly and that was wrong. It won’t happen again.” Her posture loosened a little at his words. Her eyes met his and he tried to convey his sincerity

“And what were you so afraid of?”

“I think you know Emma.”

She dropped her eyes and sighed. “Yeah. I do.” She bit her lip. “Look, I know I said I would go out with you. But if this, this awkwardness, is what happens then maybe it’s best if we don’t date. We work well as friends and I don’t have a lot of friends. Let’s not screw it up.”

Disappointment washed over him followed quickly by relief. If they were friends he could still be a part of her life, still help Henry with Operation Cobra and he wouldn’t have to worry about her kiss returning his memories. It hurt that she didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her but she did value him as a friend and that was more than enough.

He gave her a small smile. “I won’t pretend that I’m not disappointed but I respect your wishes. I would be happy to be just your friend, Emma.”

She sighed as relief washed over her face. “Good. I kind of hate eating alone.”

He smirked and his eyebrow lifted involuntarily. “Ah, so you did miss me?”

She rolled her eyes even as a smile tugged at her lips. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“If I don’t flatter myself who will?”

She chortled and for the first time James was thankful for the little bit of Captain Hook that had seeped through. There was a pleasant pause where they both just smiled. Then Emma gave a little shake of her head.

“Well I should get going. Henry is waiting.”

“Of course, love. I will see you at lunch tomorrow.”

She nodded and turned away. She went down a steps and paused. Then like lightening she turned back and closed the space between them.

Her body slammed into his and he stumbled back into the wall. Her lips found his in an eager slide and his instincts took over. Not the instincts of James Stuart but those of Captain Hook. His left arm pinned her to him while his hand buried itself in her hair. His lips worked hers expertly his tongue pressing for entrance that she swiftly granted. She tasted like cherry punch.

Her hands tugged at his hair and he growled. Her kiss had woken a hungry animal intent on devouring her. The need to take and claim filled him. He had never felt like this before it both thrilled and scared him.

He flipped them so she was pressed up against the wall, their bodies meeting from hip to shoulder, and pulled on her hair to change the angle of the kiss. After a few long seconds she broke away gasping for breath. He continued his onslaught by kissing and tasting along her jaw.

“Wow.” Emma murmured. James chuckled into her skin. “That was supposed to suck.”

In response he sucked on the patch of skin beneath her ear. She moaned and tilted her head.

“I think this is what they call mixed signals, love,” he whispered in her ear.

“Mmm…David!” Emma’s moan turned to a cry and she pushed at James.

He stumbled back to see David Nolan standing on the stairs staring at them with a little smirk. With a jolt James realized that although he didn’t know it yet this man was Emma’s father. A fiery blush overtook the flush of lust on his cheeks and he stepped further away from Emma.

“Sorry to interrupt. I’ll just let myself into the party. And let you get back to it.” He gave an encouraging nod to James and moved forward

Flustered Emma stepped between David and the door. “Actually. I think it’s best if you don’t go in. Mary-Margaret doesn’t want to see you right now.”

David’s face fell. “Oh. But I just need to explain–“ 

“Are you guys done kissing? Cause I need to go home.” Henry’s voice floated from two floors down.

Emma and James shared guilty looks. And it was only then that James realized that while the kiss had certainly triggered some part of Captain Hook his memories had not returned as Henry had predicted. He felt elated but confused.

“Sorry kid. Just a second,” Emma called back and then turned to David. “Why don’t you take Henry home?”

David blinked slowly his eyes still fixed on the door, his desire to see Mary-Margaret clear. James stepped forward and put a hand on his back.

“Come on, mate. I’ll go with you.”

Defeated David nodded and turned back to the steps. As David walked slowly down to Henry James turned back to Emma. Her lips were a little swollen, her cheeks pink, and her hair disheveled. He gave her a sly smile but repressed the urge to reach for her, knowing that the pirate might take control if he did.

“Goodnight Emma.”

She unconsciously licked her lip and smiled a slow deliberate smile. “Goodnight”

He turned away unable to regret what had just passed between them and what it might mean or what might happen when the curse was finally broken. Tonight he was going to revel in her kiss and hope that when he slept he dreamed only of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dying to know your thoughts about how this one turned out! I am excited to continue this but please know that updates will take awhile. I have been posting this on Tumblr for a few months and just now putting it up here.


	11. The Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how many of you love this story and I am so grateful for all the support. While I have enjoyed bouncing around in time my current plan is to write the next couple chapters in chronological order so this will have some semblance of an "ending". Given my love for this story I am likely to eventually write all the missing scenes too but for the next little while it will be chronological. Thanks again for your reviews, follows and favorites! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It takes place during and just after episode 1.19 "The Return" and immediately follows chapter 9.

A few months ago Emma couldn’t have imagined having an impromptu girls night on a weekday with a very broken hearted roommate, who she loved like a sister, but her life had never turned out how she imagined. When Mary-Margaret had walked into the loft that evening with tears on her face Emma had wordlessly pulled out the scotch and poured her a glass. The school teacher was no longer in jail or a murder suspect but that was little comfort when she still had the carnage of what had happened with David to deal with. Emma was trying to help her pick up the pieces and hoped she was doing a good job. Being so close to another person was strange enough, but being her support, the one to comfort and give advice, was even stranger. While offering the booze she also offered to punch David in the face. Mary-Margaret had accepted the drink but declined the physical assault–but only after a long moment of thought. A few drinks in her roommate tired of talking about her love life and decided to grill Emma about hers.

“What is going on with you and James?”

Emma poured them both another drink and tried to sound nonchalant. “There is no me and James.”

Mary-Margaret grinned and swirled the amber liquid in her class. “Hmm–“

Emma downed her own glass quickly, ignoring the burn and her roommate's teasing look.

“So when he followed you out into the hall last night it was just to discuss your overdue books?”

Emma flushed. “We talked about how it would be better if we were just friends.”

Mary-Margaret’s face fell. “Oh, Emma.”

Sensing a speech about her walls and the importance of letting people in, which she was not drunk enough to hear, Emma interrupted.

“And then I may have kissed him.”

She took another drink and then licked her lips as her mind flashed to the wild abandon of his kiss. She had kissed him thinking she could prove that they weren’t compatible and just get it out of her system. She wasn’t sure what she had expected but shy, sweet, librarians were not supposed to kiss like that but then she was beginning to suspect that James was much more than a shy, sweet, librarian.

Mary-Margaret’s giggling pulled her from her recollection.

“That good huh?”

Emma smiled and nodded. They laughed and then Mary-Margaret’s broad, congratulatory grin fell and she stared into her glass. Emma wondered what part of her time with David she was remembering. Suddenly she stood almost knocking the chair over.

“Do you want cookies? I want cookies.”

Before Emma could respond she was bustling to the kitchen wiping her eyes surreptitiously as she went. Emma hadn’t meant to make it worse by being happy but somehow she knew that’s exactly what she had done. And Mary-Margaret, ever the good person, didn’t want Emma to feel guilty for being happy.

“Cookies sound great.” Emma picked up the almost empty bottle. “How about I go get a refill?”

“Great.” Came the overly-cheerful response as Mary-Margaret turned to the fridge.

Emma shrugged into her coat wishing she could say something to make it better but knowing from experience that some things would always hurt.

 

Emma stepped out of the brightly lit liquor store with her scotch in a brown paper sack. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark night. Storybrooke, even with street lights, was always darker and more empty than she expected. She pulled down her beanie against the cold and headed towards the apartment. Her steps took her past the library and she looked again at James’s window. The light was still on. She wondered if he was still awake or if he had fallen asleep reading. She contemplated throwing some pebbles at his window and then shook the idea off. Was she a lovesick teenager now? Or was she drunker than she thought?

It wasn’t just the kiss or the alcohol. Emma really liked James and knowing how much he cared for her was a little bit empowering (and a lot scary). Especially since they hadn’t really discussed exactly what they were now that they had admitted to being frightened of commitment and shared a mind-blowing kiss. Not that Emma was eager for that particular discussion but she knew it was coming; knew the only reason they hadn’t had it at lunch that afternoon was because Henry had been there watching both of them with a strange, knowing look. Despite her feelings she still wasn’t sure that a relationship with James would work; they were two very different people.

“Emma?”

She started and turned to see James standing five feet away in a puddle of yellow light. He was wearing his peacoat, beanie, and what looked like sweatpants.

“Oh. Hey.” She wondered what the hell he was doing up (and in sweatpants) and how long he had been watching her.

He grinned, a wide smile that lit up his entire face, and moved towards her. “Did you need something, love? Or do you usually stand outside my window late at night with a look of yearning?”

She snorted. “I wasn’t! I don’t yearn.”

He quirked an eyebrow but didn’t push her further; his flirting confidence draining from him as quickly as it came. He gestured to her sack.“Run dry at home?”

“Oh. Yeah. Mary-Margaret.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “How is she?”

Emma sighed. “Honestly? Heartbroken. David ran into her tonight and tried to get her to forgive him. He wanted another chance.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

“What did she say?”

“Seriously? She told him to get lost and I don’t blame her. After the shit he pulled?”

James frowned. “So you don’t believe in second chances?”

There was something fragile in his tone a vulnerability that confused Emma and made her pause before answering.

“Of course I believe in second chances. I am a walking poster child for second chances. But that’s not what this is about. David didn’t trust her. He said he loved her but when it really came down to it he didn’t stick it out.”

“He had some valid reasons.”

Emma couldn’t understand why James was defending David. Did they become friends when she wasn’t looking?

“So? I didn’t give up on her. You didn’t give up on her. How can David say he truly loves her after everything he has put her through? He lied to her about leaving Kathryn, he broke her heart, then when she needed him most he abandoned her in jail.” Her voice was rising but she didn’t care. “It doesn’t matter how he felt because he left. His love wasn’t enough and when she needed him most he abandoned her.” Emma took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay as anger coursed through her. She bit back the words that she wasn’t drunk enough to say. That this was about more than just David hurting Mary-Margaret. It was about all the people in Emma’s life–her parents, the Swan’s, Lily, Ingrid, Neal–that hadn’t loved her enough to fight for her.

Wordlessly James closed the gap between them and enveloped her in a hug. She sagged against him and buried her face in his shoulder; he smelled almost like the ocean. For a long moment he just held her and she felt her heartbeat steady, keeping time with his.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Emma.” He whispered into her hair so quiet she was sure he hadn’t meant for her to hear. She wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t hurt her, that she trusted him, but she couldn’t. Despite his steadiness, their friendship and the way she felt about him Emma wasn’t sure. She didn’t think she could ever be completely sure about another person; she would always be waiting for the moment when they decided she wasn’t worth the bother. So she ignored his words and a few moments later she pulled away–stepping out of his arms but remaining close.

“You smell different. Have you been down at the docks?”

“I have. I couldn’t sleep. I-“ his eyes flitted down and then back up, “I’ve been having these dreams.”

Emma tilted her head. He sounded serious, even for James. “Oh.”

“Yes. They’re really vivid and in them I wear leather and I am a captain of an old sailing ship.”

Emma chuckled at the image and he gave her a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I know it sounds a bit ridiculous.” 

“Dreams don’t make sense. I sometimes dream I can fly.”

“This is a bit different. You see–“

Emma’s phone rang and she checked the screen. It was Mary-Margaret probably calling about the cookies being done. She clicked it to silent and put it back in her pocket.

“Sorry. You were saying.”

He shook his head quickly. “Nothing. It was nothing. You should go back to Mary-Margaret.”

A twinge in her gut told her he was lying but she pushed it aside.

“Okay. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Emma can’t help but smile at the way he said it. Like there was no question that he would meet her, like their lunch was automatic (she doesn’t think about how it hadn’t been the last few days as he had avoided her). It felt strange to just walk away so she stepped forward and then, second guessing herself, backward. He stepped forward just as she stepped back and they both laugh at their own awkwardness. James broke the stalemate by leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. He pulled back with a shy smile.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight.”

Emma turned and walked away and when she looked back he was still watching her.

She doesn’t tell Mary-Margaret about running into him. The cookies were chocolate chip and delicious but a bit salty.

 

-/-

As the cell door slammed shut on Sidney Glass Emma gave him a long look.

“I’m going to go process this.” She waved his signed confession and the tape of their conversation. “Last chance to let Regina take responsibility for her actions.”

Sidney lifted his chin a little higher. “You mean my actions.”

She sighed and turned away. She had been angry at Sidney before but now she only felt pity. It was so clear that Regina had coached his confession, and that he saw himself as some sort of martyr to protect the woman he loved. No, she wasn’t mad at him. Regina was the one to blame. It was Regina she hated and Regina who she would make pay for all the pain she had caused, to Mary-Margaret, to Henry, and even to Sidney.

At least that was the threat Emma had leveled at the mayor but she hadn’t actually come up with a plan of action yet. She sank into her desk chair and punched the power button on her ancient computer. As she waited for it to boot up her stomach growled and she checked the clock. Shocked at how much time had passed and annoyed that she had missed lunch with James.

She sighed, picked up her cell, and dialed Granny’s to-go number. As it rang she spun in her chair and caught sight of James entering the station. He was wearing dark dress pants and a dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. She liked the look on him, it was so different from the tweed blazers and bowties he usually wore. He smiled at her and lifted a white paper sack. She smiled back and hung up the phone.

“I thought I would bring the mountain to Mohammed,” he said as he placed the sack on her desk.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” She asked before opening the bag and fishing out her onion rings and grilled cheese–she was not at all surprised that he had gotten her order correct. He half-sat, half-leaned against her desk.

“It’s from Sir Francis Bacon ‘if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed then Mohammed must go to the mountain’. Some actually think he stole it from a Turkish proverb its supposed to mean–“ He trailed off as he saw her smirk.

“Don’t stop. I like when you talk nerdy.” She popped an onion ring in her mouth. He flushed a little but she couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or embarrassment. “Go on tell me what it means.” Emma looked at him expectantly. He looked down at his hand fiddling with his prosthetic and then he met her eye.

“It means that sometimes there are things you can’t control and no matter how much you wish things were different you eventually have to bow to the inevitable.” His voice was low and a bit too intense. His mood had shifted so quickly it left her head spinning. He had been doing that a lot lately ever since he had washed up on the beach.

“That’s sounds rather depressing. I don’t like to think that anything is inevitable.” She nudged his feet playfully with hers.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You don’t believe in fate or destiny?”

She shrugged. “When I was a kid sometimes I thought maybe fate had it in for me, but these days I say screw fate. Push back and make your own destiny.”

His smile came alive and she felt a swelling of pride that she had cheered him up. “Quite passionate, Swan.”

“Yeah, well.” She gestured to Sidney in his cell “I’ve had a few things to get passionate about today.” James twisted to look at Sidney and then turned back to Emma with a raised eyebrow. Emma stood and shut the door so Sidney wouldn’t hear. Then she crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “Regina brought him in so he could confess to kidnapping Kathryn.”

“He kidnapped her?” Emma was happy to hear the incredulous tone in his voice.

“That’s what his confession says but he is just covering for Regina. He is in love with her and she manipulated him into taking the fall.” She sighed and moved toward the desk. “I don’t believe any of it and I made sure Regina knew I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.”

“How exactly did you do that?” He asked slowly, disapprovingly.

Emma bristled. How had she forgotten his abhorrence for challenging the Mayor or confrontation in general? When she had cut down that stupid tree limb he had read her the riot act.

“I took her out into the hall and told her she was a psycho and that I was taking my son back.” Emma stood defiantly, just as defiant as she had been to Regina only hours before. She waited for his lecture; for him to tell her he wasn’t going to support her in this fight. Whatever he felt for her it wasn’t enough to change who he was at his heart; a man that didn’t fight back, a man that followed the rules. She had forgotten that basic fact in all the excitement of the kiss. The realization that they could never really be together was crashing in on her now; they were just too different.

The lecture didn’t come right away. He pursed his lips and crumpled his forehead, no doubt trying to find a nice way to tell her just how wrong and stupid she was being. But Emma knew there was no nice way for this to end and she wasn’t going to wait for him to pass judgment on her. She moved in front of him and placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m not backing down from this. You can’t stop me.”

“Swan, I have no intention of stopping you.”

Emma opened her mouth and then paused. Her argument died on her lips as she realized what he had said. “Wait. You don’t?”

“Regina shouldn’t have custody of Henry. She is dangerous. And we should do whatever it takes to keep him safe.” There was a new intensity to his voice and a spark in his eyes. A flood of warmth that was more than just relief flooded through her.

“We?” She asked.

He nodded. “Whatever you want to do, Emma, I am with you. I give you my word.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and Emma found herself stepping closer, sliding her hand behind his neck, and pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and more like what she had imagined kissing James would be like–solid, steady and comforting. When they pulled away she leaned her forehead against his. She couldn’t fully express just what his decision and his words meant. 

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled and she could almost feel it on her own lips. “You’re welcome.” His eyes, still so close, turned serious “We will need to be careful and smart. She won’t go down without a fight.”

“I know.”

“And after we get Henry safe we should talk.”

Emma nodded–less scared of having the talk with him then she had been the night before.

“I really should get going,” he said even as he swayed a bit closer to her.

“Hmm. Those books won’t shelve themselves.”

He grinned and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her again, quick and soft. Reluctantly Emma stepped back and he walked toward the door.Then he paused and turned with an almost goofy smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, Emma, we’ll make our own destiny.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned back all the same. As she watched him leave she felt a strange sense of peace replace the agitation that had plagued her all morning. James was on her side. Against all odds and probably against his own better judgment he was going to help her get Henry back. He was with her. When it came down to it he trusted her; he had chosen her.


	12. I Got No Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes immediately after chapter 11 and in between episodes 1.19 and 1.20

As he looked at her James felt happiness. Her green eyes flashed with mischief as she turned and smiled at him. She had done it a hundred times but this time he felt his chest expand and his throat constrict. He loved her. The realization crashed on him like a wave on rocks and he had to steady himself on the railing. He had thought himself incapable of caring again. Her smile fell as she sensed the shift in his mood; she stepped closer. The wind blew her long brown hair into her face and she pushed it back impatiently. 

“Killian?” 

He didn’t speak but pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a hunger he didn’t try to contain. There was no hiding now. He loved her–his Milah. Slowly the ship and the woman in his arms dissolved and James’s eyes opened on his darkened bedroom.

His hand touched his lips. “Milah” he whispered into the stillness and the tattoo on his right arm seemed to pulse in reply. He clung to the memory, to the face of the woman that he loved. His dreams had never brought him anything but pain, anger, and loneliness; he had thought Captain Hook incapable of tender feelings but he had been wrong and now James felt love for this woman he had never met. The thought was followed by a wave of guilt. 

He had closed his eyes with his mind full of Emma, her smile before she kissed him at the station, her telling him to forget about destiny, the soft touch of her lips. He had opened his eyes with his mind full of Milah, her laughter, the concern in her eyes, and the hungry slide of her lips. Two lives warred inside his head and they were impossible to reconcile. 

He groaned and threw off his sheets. He wouldn’t be sleeping and he needed the sound of the ocean and the comforting sight of the stars to ground him. He put on his coat and hat and headed for the docks. He tried not to think about how he had met Emma under his window just the night before. How she had let him just hold her and comfort her and he had vowed to himself he wouldn’t be just another person that disappointed and hurt her; that he would tell her everything when things calmed down.

He saw now how futile that vow was. Despite Emma’s claims that they could make their own destiny he couldn’t change who he was or at least who he would become when the curse finally broke. And he couldn’t fathom that Emma would want anything to do with Captain Hook especially if he was in love with another woman. The thought sent a chill through him. When he became Captain Hook would he stop caring for Emma? Would James Stuart disappear? Would Emma miss him when he was gone? 

“Mr. Stuart.” The clipped, refined tone snapped him from his thoughts. The Mayor had pulled her car up beside him. “Out for a midnight stroll?”

James stopped as if commanded and felt a prickle on his neck as he answered. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

She gave him a slow, knowing smile. “Relationship problems? I am sure Ms. Swan wasn’t happy when you didn’t take her side in this ridiculous custody battle.” 

Her voice was triumphant. James bristled as he recalled how he had almost argued with Emma over her decision to fight Regina. It had felt like a compulsion to defend the mayor not his own reasoning but something outside of himself. It had taken him a moment of struggle before he was able to tell Emma he wanted to support her. Now that he was aware of the feeling he could recognize it pulling on him demanding he agree with Regina. 

“You have gotten to know the dear Sheriff extremely well these last few months. Tell me what do you think she will do next?” 

And there it was, the pull to give into her. He had always thought he was just afraid of Regina but one look at her smug smile and he knew it was something more. She was in control; he was her puppet and she expected him to dance when she pulled his strings. But she didn’t know that Emma had been slowly helping him cut those strings ever since she arrived. Regina’s hold on him was tenuous now, a mere thread. He broke it with a determined clench of his jaw. 

“I think what she is going to do next is take her son back and you won’t be able to stop her.”

Regina scowled. “You forget, Mr. Stuart, who writes your checks. I gave you this pathetic little existence and I can take it away. Emma Swan is nobody and she will lose this fight and leave this town. Henry is my son.” She revved her engine and sped away. 

James frowned as he watched her taillights disappear his brief triumph forgotten. He may be free of her control but that didn’t make Regina less dangerous. As he walked he tried to think of others who might help Emma in her fight, but besides Mary-Margaret he couldn’t think of one person who would risk the mayor’s wrath. James had spent so much time worrying about how he would change when the curse broke that he hadn’t stopped to consider what the curse had changed when it was cast. Regina had ripped their memories from them and then twisted every citizen of Storybrooke into obedient and compliant subjects.

His steps brought him, as they always did, to the old museum ship. It seemed to almost glow in the moonlight. It had always been closed to tours; only in his dreams had he walked upon her deck.  As he examined the ship from stem to stern he had the overwhelming urge to feel the planks beneath his feet, to touch the helm and see if it felt the same as in his dreams. He strode up the gangway and then stopped at the silver chain and the sign that declared “Closed for Maintenance”. He hesitated. Jumping the chain would be trespassing maybe even breaking and entering and satisfying his curiosity was not worth becoming a criminal, he would just wait until he could take a tour. James turned away and was almost back to the dock when it occurred to him that his need to follow rules could just be Regina trying to control him. He turned and strode back only pausing for a second before stepping over the chain. 

James’s heart pounded as if he had ran a mile and he stood frozen on the step waiting for someone to appear and arrest him but the night remained peaceful and silent. A thrill ran through him as he stepped down to the wooden deck. He walked slowly toward the helm and it felt just like he remembered. The stair squeaked as he climbed it and he smiled. His heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling of belonging. His hand reached for the helm but instead of well polished wood he felt a shock of electricity. It traveled up his arm and through his body and suddenly Killian Jones remembered. 

The memories Killian had glimpsed when he nearly drowned had been a jumbled collection of moments. He had felt nothing but confusion at the images. His dreams had been like reliving moments and the emotions that came with them. They were sharp and visceral. Remembering was something completely different. 

One moment he was James Stuart and the next he was Killian Jones. It was like when he had discovered the Jane Eyre dust cover on a copy of Pride and Prejudice. He had opened the book expecting to read about poor Jane only to find the sparkling Elizabeth Bennett waiting for him instead. The dust cover had hid the truth of what it contained. No matter the words or pictures on the outside it didn’t change the story within. In a flash the cover of James Stuart had been removed revealing the pirate that had been there all along. 

“Bloody hell.” Hook breathed in the salt air and reached for his flask. Only to remember that he didn’t carry a flask anymore. “Damn you Regina.” He muttered under his breath. He went to run his hand through his hair and encountered the woolen cap. He yanked it off. Liam had always made fun of sailors who wore such things. 

Liam. His brother. A sharp pain stabbed at his chest. He had a brother and his brother was dead. It was both new information and an old wound. He breathed in deep, shook his head, dropped the cap on the deck and then stalked to the hatch that lead to his quarters. He needed a drink.

His cabin looked unchanged. His books lined up on the shelf, his desk with navigation charts and sextant and his neatly made bed were all just as he remembered. His eyes stopped on the leather brace and hook placed near the bed as if he had taken them off before sleep and not been cursed for twenty-eight years. Killian moved to the table and grabbed the half empty bottle of rum and took a deep drink. 

The sharp sting and rich flavor was just what he craved. He slid into a chair, it too felt just as he remembered. He knew it had been twenty-eight years but it felt much shorter as if he had been dreaming until the day Emma arrived and he had begun to wake up. He could now easily see how Emma had brought change to the static town and how Regina had been in a panic since her arrival. Regina knew who Emma was.

“The Savior,” he said ruefully as he sipped. The prickly Sheriff had no idea of her destiny or of the forces that had been shaping her life since before her birth. When he had first heard of the Savior he hadn’t given her much thought had never dreamed he would become her friend, her–

He shook his head. James had been Emma’s friend not him. Emma didn’t even know him, probably wouldn’t even like him. The thought chilled Killian and he took another drink. It shouldn’t matter what the Savior thought of him she wasn’t his concern, not anymore. His life mission was to kill the Crocodile and avenge Milah. 

With her name came fresh pain and it knocked the wind out of him. There was the old hurt of missing his love, the torment of not punishing her murderer, but there was also something new–guilt. He had betrayed her. Forgotten her and opened his heart to another. It didn’t matter that he had been cursed, that he didn’t remember her, his heart should not have been capable of letting his Milah go. 

The old familiar anger began to burn inside him. Regina had done this, taken his love and made him into her puppet, a bumbling, shy, law-abiding puppet. A joke for her and the Dark One to laugh at. Because Killian didn’t doubt that Mr. Gold had all his memories. The bastard had tried to kill him in a preemptive and cowardly move to both eliminate his enemy and strike at Regina. After twenty-eight years in this land as a mortal and a cripple with no magic the Crocodile had not changed. He had managed to get Regina to give him a charmed life in this cursed town but he was not her ally, he cared only for himself and his agenda, whatever it might be, and he didn’t care who got hurt along the way. 

Killian gritted his teeth in his rage and his eyes fell on his hook, his namesake. He had once plunged it into the bloodless heart of the Dark One only to be ridiculed. He had vowed to find a way to kill the demon and he had found it. It had taken countless years and a horrible curse but his hook could now draw Rumplestiltskin's blood. Killian took one last drink before slamming the bottle on the table. He had waited long enough. He would end this tonight. 

He strode from the docks with the hook heavy in his coat pocket, his hand wrapped around the cold metal, and the blood rushing in his ears. He had left the leather brace in the cabin it would take too much time to put it on and he didn’t want to attract attention. The alcohol buzzed in his veins affecting him more than he had expected, his body thrumming after twenty-eight years without rum. Killian had almost reached Granny’s, it’s lights off and courtyard empty, when he realized that Mr. Gold wouldn’t be in his shop but asleep in his bed. His steps slowed. He had no idea where the pawnbroker lived. 

The roar of a motorcycle interrupted his thoughts and caused him to turn. August was coming down the street. Killian watched as the man slowed and parked his bike in front of the diner. He didn’t like August. His smug attitude and the way he was always trying to get close to Emma and Henry rubbed him the wrong way. The man knew about the curse, he had been sneaking around the pawnshop, and now he was out in the middle of the night. What was he up too? Killian approached the bike not wanting to pass up the opportunity for a private conversation.

As August took off his helmet he turned to Killian. “Good evening,” he said wearily. 

“Who are you?” 

“That seems to be what everyone wants to know tonight.” He sighed looking tired and defeated as he rubbed at his eyes. “It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is that I am trying to help.” 

Killian crossed his arms. “Who are you trying to help?”

“You. Me. Everyone.” August threw his arm out to encompass the empty street. “Trust me I am not your enemy. Now if you will excuse me I am going to bed.” He went to step around him but Killian put his arm out pressing his palm to his chest. 

“Why were you using Henry to sneak into Gold’s shop the other day?” 

August’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?” 

“Answer the question, mate.” Killian wasn’t in the mood for games. 

“I was looking for a dagger.” 

“He has his dagger?” Killian had almost forgotten about the Dark One’s dagger and the possibilities flooded his mind.

August’s eyes grew wide. “You remember.” 

Killian stepped back, cursing himself, in his eagerness for answers he had tipped his hand. August could be working for anyone, could tell anyone. He gave a false smile. 

“Remember what?” 

“Our land. Who you really are.” His voice rose. “This is perfect. You can help me to get Emma to believe.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Killian turned to leave but August followed after him. 

“Yes you do.” He got in front of him and Killian pulled up short. “Emma needs to break the curse and get her family back, I’ve seen you two together you can’t tell me you don’t want that for her. Doesn’t she deserve to be happy?” 

Killian’s heart twisted. Regina’s curse had hurt everyone but it had torn Emma from her family and she did deserve to know why and to be reunited with her parents. 

August continued. “The only way for her to break the curse is if she believes in magic first. She barely knows me but you she trusts, she cares for. If you tell her that you remember–“

“I don’t remember anything.” 

August rolled his eyes. “Fine. Keep your secret. But one way or another Emma has to believe or we are all screwed.” 

August gave him a long look that Killian met without flinching and then with a toss of his head he turned and limped toward Granny’s. Killian watched him wondering what was wrong with his leg. 

As the man disappeared behind the corner Killian sagged against the fence, the lateness of the hour, the rum, and the weight of his own lifetimes seemed to hit him all at once. He rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses no longer sat. August didn’t understand that Emma didn’t trust  _ him _ ; she trusted James Stuart. Emma didn’t know Killian Jones and once she did he knew she would no longer trust him and likely hate him for decieving her.

But August was right that Emma deserved to be with her family. James had promised he would help her fight Regina and Killian would keep that promise. Emma had no idea what she was going up against and to defeat the Evil Queen she would need someone who wasn’t her puppet, she would need Captain Hook. Milah wouldn’t mind if he waited a little longer to get his revenge. She would want him to help a mother be reunited with her son and family. He had waited hundreds of years for revenge; he could wait a little longer.  

 


	13. A New Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right it's been almost two years and I am so sorry it's taken that long for me to finally work up the courage to write this out. I know where it's going and I know how it ends. I am going to try to update every week to two weeks. I appreciate you not forgetting about this one. I hope you enjoy what is left of the ride (and please let me know if you do)

The harsh ringing of the phone pulled Killian from his sleep. He groaned and put a hand to his head. Light poured through the windows but instead of his bed he was in his reading chair, still in his clothes. Last night, the rum and memories had overtaken him when he had entered the apartment that still somehow felt like home. He had collapsed in the chair, his old demons returned to keep him company in the dark and only the knowledge that Emma would need him in the morning had kept him from seeking oblivion in the bottle. 

The ringing continued, piercing his skull making his slight hangover worse. Captain Hook had been able to drink all night and get up and sail the next day but James seemed to have a significantly lower tolerance. He staggered to the phone. 

“What?” He spat into the receiver harsher than he intended. 

“Emergency meeting at Granny’s.”

Killian sobered and softened at the sound of Henry’s voice. “Why?” 

“Big developments in Operation Cobra. I’ll see you there.”

Killian ran a hand over his face, his facial hair scratching his palm and searched for an excuse. There was a click on the line and Killian knew he had already hung up. He sighed as he placed the phone on its cradle. The lad trusted him, confided in him; what would he think when he knew the truth? The boy hated his own mother because she was a villain; what chance did he have? Bae’s heartbroken face flashed before him and Killian pushed it away. He could do nothing about the past but he could help Henry, for as long as he would let him. 

He tamed his hair, shaved, and dressed quickly. He chose khakis, a blue button down and a grey cardigan. After his conversations with Regina and August, he didn’t want to give anyone cause to think he was anything other than a humble librarian with bad fashion sense. Although he drew the line at wearing the now useless glasses and the bow tie–it reminded him too much of the cravat he had worn in the Navy. The clothes felt over bright and flimsy, unfit for fighting or life at sea, and yet they were familiar, almost comfortable. 

As he pulled on his coat, he felt the heavy thunk of his hook in the pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it. It gleamed in the morning light. He knew he should leave it hidden somewhere in the apartment but the hook had been a part of him for hundreds of years and he needed a reminder of his true self. Besides, he reasoned, given the dangers, it would be good to have a weapon. He tucked it into an inner pocket and then headed to Granny’s. 

At the door, he spied Henry sitting at a booth pouring over his book. Killian paused to take a deep breath. Now the lying began. Henry would ask him about his memories or his dreams and Killian wouldn’t be able to tell the truth. Both the law abiding James and the pirate hated the neccessary subterfuge. 

He slid into the booth opposite Henry and he looked up his face full of excitement. 

“What is the emergency lad?” He asked as he removed his coat. 

“I’ll tell you when Emma gets here.” 

“Emma?” Killian almost choked on her name. 

Henry gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah. She needs to know too.” 

Killian’s stomach rolled. He wasn’t ready to face Emma Swan. He needed more time to prepare, to plan how he would act. The woman prided herself on being a human lie detector and he was now living a lie. 

“Did you two fight?” Henry interrupted his whirring thoughts. 

“No. Why would you think that?”

Henry shrugged. “Something my mom said about choosing sides.” 

Killian bristled at the reminder of Regina’s smug assumption the night before. How she had been positive he would turn away from Emma because of the cursed identity she had given him. 

“I’m on your side, Henry, yours and Emma’s. No matter what happens, I’m on your side.” 

Henry nodded solemnly as if he understood the gravity of the words. It was a vow James had made to Emma in the station and one Killian had made to himself last night but it was important to him that Henry know it, too. 

The bell over the door rang and Killian looked up and caught sight of Emma as she entered. Their eyes met and her face lit up in a smile that seemed to ignite a flame in his own heart. It was almost painful the strength of his emotion and he couldn’t believe he had ever thought that once he remembered, his feelings for her would change. 

“Hey.” She slid into the booth opposite him and next to Henry. “Rough night?”

Killian froze. Had she noticed the differences already? “Why do you ask?” 

She smirked. “You look like you barely slept. What book was it this time?” 

He hoped his smile didn’t look too relieved. Of course she assumed that James had stayed up late reading, not wandering the streets, breaking onto a ship, and then getting drunk while he contemplated murder. 

“There is a new story in the book.” Henry interrupted in hushed tones.

Killian’s heart stuttered. He had scoured the book looking for any mention of Captain Hook or Killian Jones and found none. But the book was magic; was it possible his story had appeared when he had remembered? 

“Why are we whispering?” Emma asked shooting a bemused smile at Killian that he couldn’t quite return.

“Because it’s sensitive.” 

“Which story?” Killian asked leaning forward to get a glimpse of a picture that looked like a ship on the ocean. 

“Pinocchio. But it’s different from the movie.” 

“That is strange.” Killian tried to keep his voice neutral as relief flooded him. 

Emma looked at them with raised eyebrows. “I’m sure the story was already there and you just forgot.”

“No, it wasn’t there before.” Killian replied. He felt a sharp kick under the table and Emma scolded him with her eyes. Nobody would have ever dared to strike Captain Hook but he reined in his affront and focused on Henry who hadn’t seemed to notice. 

“What’s really weird is that it isn’t finished.” 

“Henry that makes no sense,” Emma said, slightly exasperated. 

“I think it’s a clue on how to break the curse.” Henry looked at Emma and then at Killian his eyes shining with elation. 

Killian wanted to ask how the story could be a clue but a glance at Emma told him to keep his mouth shut. Granny arrived just then, delivering two cups of coffee and a knowing glance that seemed designed to make James blush. 

“Kid, you are going to be late for school,” Emma said as Granny walked away. She slid out of the booth to let Henry go. He pushed the book into her hands. 

“Read the story, Emma. It’s important.”

She hesitated then gave him a nod and a hug. Henry rushed for the door almost knocking over Ruby on his way. Emma chuckled, love shining on her face and Killian’s heart tightened. He wanted her to never lose that love. She sighed and sank back into the booth putting the book back on the table. 

“I wish you wouldn’t encourage him.”  She reached for her coffee as he reached for the book. 

“I didn’t. I merely stated a fact. The story of Pinnocchio was not there before.” 

She huffed. “Right. I forgot who I was talking to.” 

“Meaning?” 

“That it wouldn’t have killed you to lie so Henry didn’t get his hopes up again.” 

He furrowed his brow unsure how to respond. James would have started a lecture about lying but Killian wanted to agree with her, to say that sometimes lies were better, easier, than the truth.  

“Forget it.” She took another sip of coffee. 

He reached for his mug and studied her over the rim. It was different now that he had the experience of his memories to guide him. James had often been baffled by her expressions and changes in mood but Killian could sense now in the stiff way she held herself and the look in her eyes that she was holding something back, some deep hurt from long ago. 

He reached out and took her hand. She startled and met his eyes before looking at their hands. He couldn’t tell her that he understood, she wouldn’t believe that James could possibly understand and so he rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand. Her shoulders seemed to loosen and she let out a long breath. In that moment he was glad of the memories that allowed him to see and comfort her. 

“I see you two finally got around to having _breakfast_?” Ruby’s voice startled him and involuntarily he pulled his hand from Emma. As her innuendo hit him his cheeks began to burn and when he saw the wicked gleam in Ruby’s eye he ducked his head and reached for his coffee. The embarrassment was overwhelming and unexpected. Killian cursed Regina for making James so bashful. 

“Ruby. Be nice.” Emma’s voice was colored with amusement and that made it all worse. She ordered a breakfast sandwich to go and then Killian managed to ask for eggs and bacon without looking Ruby in the eye. As she walked away Emma chuckled and Killian had managed to gain control of himself, wrestling James into submission.

“I’m so happy my discomfort amuses you, Swan.” 

“Sarcasm? That’s new.” She smirked at him. 

“What can I say, you bring out the worst in me.” He countered with a smirk and a quick lick of his lips. He ignored the voice telling him that James would never flirt so outrageously. Emma’s eyes dropped briefly to his lips but then gave a little shake of her head. 

“Speaking of the worst. I’m going to ask Mr. Gold to take my case against Regina.” 

“Absolutely not,” he burst out angrily.

“Excuse me?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You can’t trust him.” He struggled to control his voice, “Gold only cares about himself and he will double cross you the moment his goals don’t align with yours.”

“I know that. I’m not an idiot. But I need him to fight Regina. He is the only person in this town that isn’t afraid of her.” 

“I’m not afraid of her, you’re not afraid of her. We don’t need him. We can defeat Regina without his help.” 

She gave him a look that was half-anger, half-pity. “I wish that were true but we really can’t. We need him. He knows the law. Henry is my son and this is my decision. If getting him away from her means making another deal with Gold then I will.”

Frustration and determination rolled off of Emma. Killian clenched his teeth stopping the objections from boiling out of his mouth. James wouldn’t argue and Killian could see it would be pointless. 

He gave a curt nod. Ruby arrived with Emma’s to go bag and after an awkward glance between them left it on the table without a word. 

Emma grabbed the bag and stood. “I should go.” 

“Emma.” He wanted to stall her, to apologize, but she was already rushing for the door. 

Killian frowned down at the book. Emma was going to make a deal with the Dark One and it wasn’t her first. He regretted not killing him no matter the consequences. Even without magic, the Crocodile was far too dangerous. But he also acknowledged that Emma was right. To defeat Regina, to break the curse, they would need allies and a plan. 

Killian pulled the book to him and began reading the new story. He barely glanced up when Ruby delivered his food and later when she came to refresh his coffee, he knew what he needed to do. 

“What room is August staying in?” 

Ruby tilted her head. “Number 8. Why?” 

“Because I have a few questions I need answered.” 

Though he wanted to stomp and bluster, Killian stepped lightly, doing his best to avoid creaking floorboards. He didn’t know if August was in his room but he preferred not to announce his presence. He paused at the door listening intently for sounds but it was silent. He moved to try the handle but stopped when he heard a voice. 

“Mr. Gold, we need to meet. It’s about Emma.” Killian’s hand gripped the hook in his pocket. “There is a problem.” 

Killian heard the click of a phone and August moving about the room. He wondered briefly if he should try and spy on the meeting but he had always preferred a more direct approach and he wanted answers now. 

He pulled out his hook and leaned against the wall, a predator waiting for his prey. He glanced down at his clothes and wished he had his black leather. Intimidation was eighty percent presentation after all. The door opened and he composed his face into a deadly smile. 

“Going somewhere, Pinocchio?”

August startled and then grimaced in pain. He stumbled back into the room and Killian followed shutting the door behind him. August sank onto the bed and clutched at his leg as he eyed the hook. 

“Captain Hook.” He gave a little strangled laugh. “My papa used to tell stories about you.” 

Killian’s lip curled. “Was this before or after the Blue Fairy turned you into a real boy?” 

“Not so real these days.” 

“Real enough to bleed.” Killian lowered the hook toward his neck, “Why are you working with Gold?” 

“Because we want the same thing.” 

“Which is?” 

“What we all want: to break the curse.” August met his eyes defiantly.

Killian considered this. It made sense that Gold wouldn’t want to be under Regina’s thumb but that didn’t explain the phone conversation. “You said Emma was a problem.”

August sighed. “I’ve been trying to get her to believe in Henry’s book but she is being difficult.” 

Killian heard the stress and frustration in his voice and suddenly felt a little ridiculous brandishing his hook at this half-defeated man while wearing khakis and a cardigan. He lowered it and crossed his arms.

“And how is the Dark One going to help?” 

“By not helping. Emma is going to ask him to take her case and I want him to refuse so that she will turn to me.” 

Killian had to admit that keeping Emma from bargaining with Rumplestiltskin was appealing. But he also knew she was right, they needed help to get Henry out of Regina’s clutches. 

“And how can you assist with getting custody?” 

“I can’t but I can get her to believe and that is the first step in breaking the curse and getting back the happy endings.” August gave him a cynical smile. “Then Regina won’t have any more power.”  

“And how are you going to get Emma to believe?” 

August reached down and pulled up his pant leg. Killian’s eyes widened at the sight of a wooden leg going into his boot. 

“Bloody hell.” 

“I think this might make a convincing argument.” 

Killian imagined what Emma would do if she saw his leg, if she was confronted with the idea of a very real, very grown-up Pinocchio. She would panic she might even run. 

“I don’t think showing her your wood is a good idea, mate.” 

August chuckled. “I have a plan. I’m not going to push her; I know how she is. Showing her this would be a last resort.” 

Killian nodded. “Alright.” 

August raised his eyebrows. “Alright? You aren’t going to gut me like a fish?” 

“I may still do that if you hurt Emma. But for now, you get to live.” 

August looked him over and Killian knew the threat lacked the gravitas he would have had if he was wearing leather and a sword.

August stood, wincing slightly. “You really care for her, don’t you?” Killian only glared at him. “That’s good. She deserves someone who will look out for her.” 

Killian remembered then the story he had read. A man who loved his son enough to defy the Blue Fairy and lie to his monarchs to save him. A young boy, who had once been a puppet, tasked by his father to take care of the baby princess so she could break the curse. If they had come through the wardrobe together then why did Emma not know him? Why had she spent her life alone and unprotected?

“Looking out for her was supposed to be your job.” 

“You read the story?” 

Killian nodded. 

“Then you know I was a child when we came here.” 

The pity in the man’s voice disgusted Killian. “You haven’t been a child for a long time.” 

“No. I haven’t.” 

“So be the man your father believed you would be. Keep your promise. Get her to believe and finish your story.” It came out like an order. 

August stood a little taller. “I will. Now I need to go talk to Gold before Emma does.” He stepped toward the door. 

Killian put the hook to his chest. “Don’t tell the Dark One that I have my memories.” 

“Don’t worry. I have no love for Gold and I know how to keep a secret.” 

Killian stared him down. He had no choice but to trust this half-wooden man and hope that he could get Emma to believe. He gave a gruff nod and stepped aside to let Pinocchio pass. 

As he limped away Killian lost hold of Captain Hook. He sighed and placed the hook back in his coat. It had been easy to fall back into his pirate persona but he had found that like his librarian clothes, it was no longer comfortable. He was neither pirate nor librarian now but he hoped whoever he was he would be able to help Emma break the curse, bring back the happy endings, and see Regina punished. And once that was done, once everyone knew who Gold truly was, nobody would mind when he finally took his revenge. Maybe then Killian could start a new story of his own. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a fun idea to play with but it snowballed. I hope you enjoy it despite the unconventional out of order method. This is all about thinking through how the curse would have worked on Killian and so I would love to hear what you think about the differences and similarities of James Stuart and Killian Jones.


End file.
